Nearer was the tall form of his
wife, standing near the foot of the bed, her stern, harsh features
somewhat softened by the feelings of the moment. Ursel waited at
hand, with tears running down her furrowed cheeks.
For such as these Father Norbert was prepared; but he little expected
to meet so pure and sweet a gaze of reverential welcome as beamed on
him from the soft, dark eyes of the little white-checked maiden who
sat on the bed, holding the sufferer in her arms. Still less had he
anticipated the serene blessedness that sat on the wasted features of
the dying girl, and all the anguish of labouring breath.
She smiled a smile of joy, held up her hand, and thanked her brother.
Her father scarcely lifted his head, her mother made a rigid curtsey,
and with a grim look of sorrow coming over her features, laid her
hand over the old Baron's shoulder. "Come away, Herr Vater," she
said; "he is going to hear her confession, and make her too holy for
the like of us to touch."
The old man rose up, and stepped towards his child. Ermentrude held
out her arms to him, and murmured -
"Father, father, pardon me; I would have been a better daughter if I
had only known--" He gathered her in his arms; he was quite past
speaking; and they only heard his heavy breathing, and one more
whisper from Ermentrude--"And oh! father, one day wilt thou seek to
be absolved?" Whether he answered or not they knew not; he only gave
her repeated kisses, and laid her down on her pillows, then rushed to
the door, and the passionate sobs of the strong man's uncontrolled
nature might be heard upon the stair.
Pages:
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128