younger than myself--and now my darling, to my never-ending sorrow, gone
home before me! Yet it has been God's will. He took her away because she
was worthy to be taken, and because He has need of the good ones.'
This simple thought seemed to me a consolation, and I pressed closer to
Natalia. She laid her hands upon my head as she looked upward with eyes
expressive of a deep, but resigned, sorrow. In her soul was a sure and
certain hope that God would not long separate her from the one upon whom
the whole strength of her love had for many years been concentrated.
'Yes, my dear,' she went on, 'it is a long time now since I used to
nurse and fondle her, and she used to call me Natasha. She used to come
jumping upon me, and caressing and kissing me, and say, 'MY Nashik, MY
darling, MY ducky,' and I used to answer jokingly, 'Well, my love, I
don't believe that you DO love me. You will be a grown-up young
lady soon, and going away to be married, and will leave your Nashik
forgotten.' Then she would grow thoughtful and say, 'I think I had
better not marry if my Nashik cannot go with me, for I mean never to
leave her.' Yet, alas! She has left me now! Who was there in the world
she did not love? Yes, my dearest, it must never be POSSIBLE for you to
forget your Mamma. She was not a being of earth--she was an angel from
Heaven. When her soul has entered the heavenly kingdom she will continue
to love you and to be proud of you even there.'
'But why do you say 'when her soul has entered the heavenly kingdom'?' I
asked. 'I believe it is there now.'
'No, my dearest,' replied Natalia as she lowered her voice and pressed
herself yet closer to me, 'her soul is still here,' and she pointed
upwards. She spoke in a whisper, but with such an intensity of
conviction that I too involuntarily raised my eyes and looked at the
ceiling, as though expecting to see something there. 'Before the souls
of the just enter Paradise they have to undergo forty trials for forty
days, and during that time they hover around their earthly home.' [A
Russian popular legend.]
She went on speaking for some time in this strain--speaking with the
same simplicity and conviction as though she were relating common things
which she herself had witnessed, and to doubt which could never enter
into any one's head. I listened almost breathlessly, and though I did
not understand all she said, I never for a moment doubted her word.
'Yes, my darling, she is here now, and perhaps looking at us and
listening to what we are saying,' concluded Natalia. Raising her head,
she remained silent for a while. At length she wiped away the tears
which were streaming from her eyes, looked me straight in the face, and
said in a voice trembling with emotion:
'Ah, it is through many trials that God is leading me to Him. Why,
indeed, am I still here? Whom have I to live for? Whom have I to love?'
'Do you not love US, then?' I asked sadly, and half-choking with my
tears.
'Yes, God knows that I love you, my darling; but to love any one as I
loved HER--that I cannot do.'
She could say no more, but turned her head aside and wept bitterly. As
for me, I no longer thought of going to sleep, but sat silently with her
and mingled my tears with hers.
Presently Foka entered the room, but, on seeing our emotion and not
wishing to disturb us, stopped short at the door.
'Do you want anything, my good Foka?' asked Natalia as she wiped away
her tears.
'If you please, half-a-pound of currants, four pounds of sugar, and
three pounds of rice for the kutia.' [Cakes partaken of by the mourners
at a Russian funeral.]
'Yes, in one moment,' said Natalia as she took a pinch of snuff and
