I consented. But a quick impulse came to me and I whispered to him: "One of your psalms, Gordon--that lovely one about the Valley."
I saw how glad he was. "You must sing it too," he said; and then, in tones of more than womanly gentleness, he began the noble strain.
"Yea though I walk in death's dark vale Yet will I fear none ill, For Thou art with me and Thy rod And staff me comfort still."
I didn't know then, and hardly know exactly yet, what those two last lines really mean; but no one could fail to see their power. They have been often tested when life's lamp was burning low; and the far-off music of Immortality, whatever be the meaning of the words, echoes through them. Jennie's face was beautiful to see.
I had never had hour like to this. I can remember yet how, once or twice, the thought of all the revelry I had left behind floated before my eyes; the lights, the flowers, the richly appointed table, the sumptuous dinner, the circle of exalted guests in glorious array, the speech and the echoing song--but they all seemed to me now as the dust beneath my feet. Pale and tawdry, garish, did it all appear in contrast with the high reality of the scene that had succeeded it. It must have been God's miracle to my soul. I know not. But I speak only the simple truth when I say that what was about me now, the humble home, the squalid room, the dimly burning lamp, the wail of the broken-hearted, the pale light of death upon one wasted face; these stood before me as life, very life--and the other had receded into the phantom shadows of unreality and death. I felt as if I had found myself at last; I knew I had found my husband, long sundered by the cruel shadow my own foolish heart had cast; and I dimly hoped that the dear Father of us all had found us both.
An hour or two later Gordon beckoned me out into the little hall. "I guess we'll have to go now," he said; "it's almost midnight--and you'll be tired out."
"Don't," I said earnestly, "don't make me go, Gordon. How can we leave here?--she's dying. Do you think we'll ever see her again?"
Gordon's look of love was beautiful. "No," he said, "never again, here--and we'll wait, my darling," the words coming low and passionate. "Look," as he cast his eyes within the door, "she wants you--she's motioning for you."