Olive Higgins Prouty

“ It was more difficult still as time went on, and Reba sank deeper into mysterious silence, as she lay so quiet upon her pillow, gazing sometimes out of the window with those big eyes of hers, at the tell-tale limbs of bare elm and maple (their leaves had not even begun to turn in September) ; sometimes at the wide gold band upon the third finger of her left hand; sometimes, most often, at the cracks upon the ceiling—climbing their difficult ascents slowly, painstakingly, plunging down their precipitous cliffs softly, without hurt—picking herself up and monotonously going on and on. ”

“ Reba did not fight for strength, struggle for peace of mind during the long convalescing days. Passive and inert, she lay and let nature do with her what it wanted to, looking on a little curiously at the queer workings of its ways, surprised as the days wore on that time was actually working on her its magic cure—making her body a little stronger every week (and with no help from her) , her mind a little better able to face the truth without the old stab of pain. ”

“ The fever, too, proved a miraculous short-cut back into the affections of women whose hearts hadn't many avenues of approach. But for Reba's great need of being taken care of, her aunts and Cousin Syringa would never have been given the opportunity of love-begetting service. This was especially significant with the inarticulate Augusta, clumsy and awkward in the use of every form of expression except service. There were moments during the anxious watching-time of Reba's long sickness when the tenderness in Augusta Morgan's heart amounted almost to pain. ”