Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XXXVII. The Reaper Whose Name Is Death

           Anne,newtogrief,thoughtitalmostsadthatitcouldbeso—thattheycouldgoonintheoldwaywithoutMatthew.Shefeltsomethinglikeshameandremorsewhenshediscoveredthatthesunrisesbehindthefirsandthepalepinkbudsopeninginthegardengavehertheoldinrushofgladnesswhenshesawthem—thatDiana’svisitswerepleasanttoherandthatDiana’smerrywordsandwaysmovedhertolaughterandsmiles—that,inbrief,thebeautifulworldofblossomandloveandfriendshiphadlostnoneofitspowertopleaseherfancyandthrillherheart,thatlifestillcalledtoherwithmanyinsistentvoices.

           “ItseemslikedisloyaltytoMatthew,somehow,tofindpleasureinthesethingsnowthathehasgone,”shesaidwistfullytoMrs.Allanoneeveningwhentheyweretogetherinthemansegarden.“Imisshimsomuch—allthetime—andyet,Mrs.Allan,theworldandlifeseemverybeautifulandinterestingtomeforall.TodayDianasaidsomethingfunnyandIfoundmyselflaughing.IthoughtwhenithappenedIcouldneverlaughagain.AnditsomehowseemsasifIoughtn’tto.”

           “WhenMatthewwasherehelikedtohearyoulaughandhelikedtoknowthatyoufoundpleasureinthepleasantthingsaroundyou,”saidMrs.Allangently.“Heisjustawaynow;andhelikestoknowitjustthesame.Iamsureweshouldnotshutourheartsagainstthehealinginfluencesthatnatureoffersus.ButIcanunderstandyourfeeling.Ithinkweallexperiencethesamething.

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