"I mean, do you like the idea of there being no death and that we only
change from one life to another and so on for ever?" she continued. "To
me it is appalling! Sometimes I think death the kindest thing that can
happen--especially for women."
I was in the mood to agree with her. I went up to her and knelt down by
her side.
"Yes!" I said, and I felt the tremor of tears in my voice--"Yes, for
women death often seems very kind! When there is no love and no hope of
love,--when the world is growing grey and the shadows are deepening
towards night,--when the ones we most dearly love misjudge and mistrust
us and their hearts are closed against our tenderness, then death seems
the greatest god of all!--one before whom we may well kneel and offer
up our prayers! Who could, who WOULD live for ever quite alone in an
eternity without love? Oh, how much kinder, how much sweeter would be
utter extinction--"
My voice broke; and Catherine, moved by some sudden womanly impulse,
put her arm round me.
"Why, you are crying!" she said, softly. "What is it? You, who are
always so bright and happy!"