Summary

Portrait of Mrs. Oliphant Mrs. Oliphant Stories of the Seen and Unseen… (1902)

She it was who had done it all—she, whose memory did not spare her one fault, who remembered everything. But when she came to that last frivolity of her old age, and saw for the first time how she had played with the future of the child whom she had brought up, and abandoned to the hardest fate—for nothing, for folly, for a jest—the horror and bitterness of the thought filled her mind to overflowing. In the first anguish of that recollection she had to go forth, receiving no word of comfort in respect to it, meeting only with a look of sadness and compassion, which went to her very heart.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mrs. Oliphant Mrs. Oliphant Stories of the Seen and Unseen… (1902)

You are to them one who is dead. They will be afraid of you if they can see you. Oh, go not back! Be content to wait—to wait; it is only a little while. The life of man is nothing; it appears for a little time, and then it vanishes away. And when she comes here she will know—or in a better place." They sighed as they named the better place; though some smiled too, feeling perhaps more near to it.
Lady Mary listened to them all, but she kept her eyes upon the face of him who offered her this possibility.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mrs. Oliphant Mrs. Oliphant Stories of the Seen and Unseen… (1902)

To send a word—only a word—to set right what is wrong? Oh, I understand," she said, lifting up her hands. "I understand! that to send messages of comfort must not be; that the people who love you must bear it, as we all have done in our time, and trust to God for consolation. But I have done a wrong! Oh, listen, listen to me, my friends. I have left a child, a young creature, unprovided for—without any one to help her. And must that be? Must she bear it, and I bear it, forever, and no means, no way of setting it right?
Source: Wikisource

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