‘Each day I have come to tell him, and failed, with my hand on the
gate.
I bore the dreadful knowledge, and crushed my heart with its weight.
The letter brought by your comrade—he has but just read it aloud!
It only reached him this morning!’ Her head on his shoulder she
bowed.
Then Tom with pity’s tenderest lordliness patted her arm,
And eyed the old white-head fondly, with something of doubt and alarm.