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time so many midsummers ago； when she had told Thias where
this linen lay； that he might be sure and reach it out for her when
she died； for she was the elder of the two。 Then there had been the
work of cleansing to the strictest purity every object in the sacred
chamber； and of removing from it every trace of common daily
occupation。 The small window； which had hitherto freely let in the
frosty moonlight or the warm summer sunrise on the working
man’s slumber； must now be darkened with a fair white sheet； for
this was the sleep which is as sacred under the bare rafters as in
ceiled houses。 Lisbeth had even mended a long…neglected and
unnoticeable rent in the checkered bit of bed…curtain； for the
moments were few and precious now in which she would be able
to do the smallest office of respect or love for the still corpse； to
which in all her thoughts she attributed some consciousness。 Our
dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them： they can
be injured by us； they can be wounded； they know all our
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penitence； all our aching sense that their place is empty； all the
kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence。 And the
aged peasant woman most of all believes that her dead are
conscious。 Decent burial was what Lisbeth had been thinking of
for herself through years of thrift； with an indistinct expectation
that she should know when she was being carried to the
churchyard； followed by her husband and her sons； and now she
felt as if the greatest work of her life were to be done in seeing that
Thias was buried decently before her—under the white thorn；
where once； in a dream； she had thought she lay in the coffin； yet
all the while saw the sunshine above and smelt the white blossoms
that were so thick upon the thorn the Sunday she went to be
churched after Adam was born。
But now she had done everything that could be done to…day in
the chamber of death—had done it all herself； with some aid from
her sons in lifting； for she would let no one be fetched to help her
from the village； not being fond of female neighbours generally；
and her favourite Dolly； the old housekeeper at Mr。 Burge’s； who
had come to condole with her in the morning as soon as she heard
of Thias’s death； was too dim…sighted to be of much use。 She had
locked the door； and now held the key in her hand； as she threw
herself wearily into a chair that stood out of its place in the middle
of the house floor； where in ordinary times she would never have
consented to sit。 The kitchen had had none of her attention that
day； it was soiled with the tread of muddy shoes and untidy with
clothes and other objects out of place。 But what at another time
would have been intolerable to Lisbeth’s habits of order and
cleanliness seemed to her now just what should be： it was right
that things should look strange and disordered and wretched； now
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the old man had come to his end in that sad way； the kitchen
ought not to look as if nothing had happened。 Adam； overcome
with the agitations and exertions of the day after his night of hard
work； had fallen asleep on a bench in the workshop； and Seth was
in the back kitchen making a fire of sticks that he might get the
kettle to boil； and persuade his mother to have a cup of tea； an
indulgence which she rarely allowed herself。
There was no one in the kitchen when Lisbeth entered and
threw herself into the chair。 She looked round with blank eyes at
the dirt and confusion on which the bright afternoon’s sun shone
dismally； it was all of a piece with the sad confusion of her mind—
that confusion which belongs to the first hours of a sudden sorrow；
when the poor human soul is like one who has been deposited
sleeping among the ruins of a vast city； and wakes up in dreary
amazement； not knowing whether it is the growing or the dying
day—not knowing why and whence came this illimitable scene of
desolation； or why he too finds himself desolate in the midst of it。
At another time Lisbeth’s first thought would have been；
“Where is Adam？” but the sudden death of her husband had
restored him in these hours to that first place in her affections
which he had held six…and…twenty years ago。 She had forgotten his
faults as we forget the sorrows of our departed childhood； and
thought of nothing but the young husband’s kindness and the old
man’s patience。 Her eyes continued to wander blankly until Seth
came in and began to remove some of the scattered things； and
clear the small round deal table that he might set out his mother’s
tea upon it。
“What art goin’ to do？” she said； rather peevishly。
“I want thee to have a cup of tea； Mother；” answered Seth；
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tenderly。 “It’ll do thee good； and I’ll put two or three of these
things away； and make the house look more comfortable。”
“Comfortable！ How canst talk o’ ma’in’ things comfortable？ Let
a…be； let a…be。 There’s no comfort for me no more；” she went on；
the tears coming when she began to speak； “now thy poor
feyther’s gone； as I’n washed for and mended； an’ got’s victual for
him for thirty ’ear； an’ him allays so pleased wi’ iverything I done
for him； an’ used to be so handy an’ do the jobs for me when I war
ill an’ cumbered wi’ th’ babby； an’ made me the posset an’ brought
it upstairs as proud as could be； an’ carried the lad as war as heavy
as two children for five mile an’ ne’er grumbled； all the way to
Warson Wake； ’cause I wanted to go an’ see my sister； as war dead
an’ gone the very next Christmas as e’er come。 An’ him to be
drownded in the brook as we passed o’er the day we war married
an’ come home together； an’ he’d made them lots o’ shelves for me
to put my plates an’ things on； an’ showed ’em me as proud as
could be； ’cause he know’d I should be pleased。 An’ he war to die
an’ me not to know； but to be a…sleepin’ i’ my bed； as if I caredna
nought about it。 Eh！ An’ me to live to see that！ An’ us as war young
folks once； an’ thought we should do rarely when we war married。
Let a…be； lad； let a…be！ I wonna ha’ no tay。 I carena if I ne’er ate nor
drink no more。 When one end o’ th’ bridge tumbles down； where’s
th’ use o’ th’ other stannin’？ I may ’s well die； an’ foller my old
man。 There’s no knowin’ but he’ll want me。”
Here Lisbeth broke from words into moans； swaying herself
backwards and forwards on her chair。 Seth； always timid in his
behaviour towards his mother； from the sense that he had no
influence over her； felt it was useless to attempt to persuade or
soothe her till this passion was past； so he contented himself with
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tending the back kitchen fire and folding up his father’s clothes；
which had been hanging out to dry since morning—afraid to move
about in the room where his mother was； lest he should irritate
her further。
But after Lisbeth had been rocking herself and moaning for
some minutes； she suddenly paused and said aloud to herself； “I’ll
go an’ see arter Adam； for I canna think where he’s