* * * * *
Spare me telling you where, how and when she was buried. What
difference does it make to you how she went her last journey, never to
return in the flesh? Whether we had her buried in mountains of her
favorite flower or sent her away in the pine box of the pauper, is of no
consequence to you. She was nothing to you, she was mine, all mine; in
life or in death, on earth or in heaven.
* * * * *
*THE INHERITANCE.*
*CHAPTER XIX.*
*THE INHERITANCE.*
Little more is to be told.
Time has smoothed the jagged edges, and I have never again dared to
measure my puny wisdom to His. Yet, and there is a forgiveness, no day
passes without the question: "Is what I have learned worth the tuition
fee?"
True, my knowledge is trifling when compared to yours, but we also
differ in our "Whence."
To me it is all a miracle. Before it I did not even grope about in the
darkness searching for light.