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Montgomery, L. M. (Lucy Maud), 1874-1942

"Further Chronicles of Avonlea"

"
But that was long ago, and now my heart foreboded that there
would be no need of wakening her. And there was not. She was
lying there awake, very quiet, with her hand under her cheek, and
her big blue eyes fixed on the window, through which a pale, dull
light was creeping in--a joyless light it was, and enough to make
a body shiver. I felt more like weeping than rejoicing, and my
heart took to aching when I saw her there so white and patient,
more like a girl who was waiting for a winding-sheet than for a
bridal veil. But she smiled brave-like, when I sat down on her
bed and took her hand.
"You look as if you haven't slept all night, dearie," I said.
"I didn't--not a great deal," she answered me. "But the night
didn't seem long; no, it seemed too short. I was thinking of a
great many things. What time is it, Aunt Rachel?"
"Five o'clock."
"Then in six hours more--"
She suddenly sat up in her bed, her great, thick rope of brown
hair falling over her white shoulders, and flung her arms about
me, and burst into tears on my old breast. I petted and soothed
her, and said not a word; and, after a while, she stopped crying;
but she still sat with her head so that I couldn't see her face.
"We didn't think it would be like this once, did we, Aunt
Rachel?" she said, very softly.
"It shouldn't be like this, now," I said. I had to say it. I
never could hide the thought of that marriage, and I couldn't
pretend to.


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