But a day came when Shenac saw how needless all her anxious thoughts
about her mother's future had been, when she acknowledged, with tears of
mingled sorrow and joy, that she had tenderer care and safer keeping
than son or daughter could give.
All through the long harvest-days the mother failed slowly--so slowly
that even the watchful eyes of Shenac did not see how surely. Then, as
the autumn wore away, and the increasing cold no longer permitted the
daily sitting in the sunshine, the change became more rapid. Then there
was a time of sharper suffering. The long days and nights lingered out
into weeks, and then all suffering was over--the tired heart ceased to
struggle with the burden of life, and the widow was laid to rest beside
her husband and son.
That this was a time of great sorrow in the household need not be told.
Neighbours came from far and near with offers of help and sympathy. All
that kind hearts and experienced hands could do to aid these young
people in the care of their suffering mother was done; but all was only
a little. It was the strong arm of Allister which lifted and laid down,
and moved unceasingly, the never-resting form of the mother. It was
Shenac who smoothed her pillow and moistened her lips, and performed all
the numberless offices so necessary to the sick, yet too often so
useless to soothe pain. It was the voice of Hamish that sometimes had
the power to soothe to quietness, if not to repose, the ever-moaning
sufferer. Friends came with counsel and encouragement, but her children
never left her through all. It was a terrible time to them. Their
mother's failure had been so gradual that the thought of her death had
not been forced upon them; and, quite unaccustomed to the sight of so
great suffering, as the days and nights wore on, bringing no change, no
respite, but ever the same moaning and agony, they looked into one
another's faces appalled. It was terrible; but it came to an end at
last. They could not sorrow for her when the close came. They rejoiced
rather that she had found rest. But they were motherless and desolate.
It was a very hushed and sorrowful home that night, when all the friends
who had returned with them from the grave were gone, and the children
were alone together; and for many days after that. If this trouble had
come upon them a year ago, there would have been some danger that the
silence and sadness that rested upon them might have changed to gloom
and despondency on Shenac's part; for she felt that her mother's death
had "unsettled old foundations," and when she looked forward to what her
life might be now, it was not always that she could do so hopefully.
But she was quiet and not impatient--willing to wait and see what time
might bring to them all.
By-and-by the affairs of the house and of the farm fell back into the
old routine, and life flowed quietly on. The new house made progress.
It was so nearly completed that they had intended to remove to it about
the time their mother became worse. The work went on through all their
time of trouble, and one after another the workmen went away; but
nothing was said of any change to be made, till the year was drawing to
a close. It was Hamish who spoke of it then, first to Shenac and then
to Allister; and before Christmas they were quite settled in their new
home.
Christmas passed, and the new year came in, and a month or two more went
by, and then one night Shenac said to her brother,--
"Allister, when are you going to bring Shenac home?"
Allister had been the gravest and quietest of them all during the time
that had passed since their mother's death. He was silent, though he
started a little when his sister spoke. In a moment she came close to
him, and standing behind him, laid her hand on his shoulder, and said
softly,--
"It would be no disrespect to the memory of our mother, coming now.
Hamish says so too. Shenac is not like a stranger; and it might be very
quiet." Allister turned and touched with his lips the hand that lay on
his shoulder, and then drew her down on the seat beside him. This was
one of the things which made Allister so different from other people in
Shenac's eyes. Even Hamish, loving and kind as he was, had not
Allister's gentle, caressing ways. A touch, a smile, a fond word, came
so naturally from him; and these were all the more sweet to Shenac
because she was shy of giving such tokens herself, even where she loved
best.
"If Shenac would come," said Allister.