And thenceforth, every day, and all day long, he waited at her grave,

for her. How many pictures of new journeys over pleasant country, of

resting-places under the free broad sky, of rambles in the fields and

woods, and paths not often trodden - how many tones of that one

well-remembered voice, how many glimpses of the form, the fluttering

dress, the hair that waved so gaily in the wind - how many visions of

what had been, and what he hoped was yet to be - rose up before

him, in the old, dull, silent church! He never told them what he

thought, or where he went. He would sit with them at night, pondering

with a secret satisfaction, they could see, upon the flight that he and

she would take before night came again; and still they would hear him

whisper in his prayers, 'Lord! Let her come to-morrow!'

The last time was on a genial day in spring. He did not return at the

usual hour, and they went to seek him. He was lying dead upon the

stone.

They laid him by the side of her whom he had loved so well; and, in

the church where they had often prayed, and mused, and lingered

hand in hand, the child and the old man slept together.

The Old Curiosity Shop