I didn’t see how anybody could endure such anguish and live. To see his dear little eyes and know he would never open them again — to miss his warm little body nestled against mine at night and think of him sleeping alone and cold, his wee face under the hard frozen earth. It was so awful for the first year — after that it was a little easier, one didn’t keep thinking ‘this day last year’ — but I was so glad when I found out I was dying.”

“‘Who could endure life if it were not for the hope of death?’“ murmured Valancy softly — it was of course a quotation from some book of John Foster’s.

“I’m glad I’ve told you all about it,” sighed Cissy. “I wanted you to know.”