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Crimson Roses (Musaicum Romance Classics)
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
Grace Livingston Hill
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"Oh, please, please keep still!" shouted Marion's soul silently. But Marion's lips answered nothing. She still wore that exalted look. After all, what did anything like this matter now? Let Jennie voice her meaningless patter. She need not pay attention. She was trying to follow the flight of the dear spirit who had gone from her. She had not yet faced the life without him that was to be hers now that he was gone. She still had the feeling upon her that for his sake she must be brave and quiet. She must not desecrate the place by even a tear.
All through the trying days that followed until the worn-out body was laid to rest beside the partner of his youth in the peaceful cemetery outside the city, Marion had to endure the constant attentions of her sister-in-law. Jennie was always bringing her a cup of tea, and begging her to lie down. Jennie wanted to know if she wouldn't like her to come into her room and sleep lest she would be lonely. Jennie slapped the children for making a noise and told them their Aunt Marion didn't feel well. Jennie became almost effusive in her vigilance until after the funeral was over. Marion was glad beyond words to be allowed at last to go to her own room alone and lock the door. To be alone with her sorrow seemed the greatest luxury that could now be given her.
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