"What a year it's been!" she whispered, "for you and me alone together!
And how many years there are before us--and our children--and the
Homestead--and all that we stand for--as long as the New England farms
and the Great Glorious Spirit which watches over them shall endure!"
A cloud passed over the moon dimming its brightness. It brought them to
the realization that the long, hard hours of the night were before them
both, to be faced and conquered. The New York doctor, whom Sylvia had
once before refused to send for, and the fresh-faced, rosy nurse, who
had both been staying at the brick cottage for the last few days, were
called, the servants roused to activity. There came a time when Austin,
impotent to serve Sylvia, marvelling at her bravery, wrung by her
suffering, felt that such agony was beyond endurance, beyond hope, beyond
anything in life worth gaining. But when the breathless, horrible night
had dragged its interminable black length up to the skirts of the radiant
dawn, the mist rose slowly from the quiet river and still more quiet
mountains, the first singing of the birds broke the heavy stillness, and
Austin and Sylvia kissed each other and their first-born son in the glory
of the golden morning.
Pages:
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345