She Never Called Her Son

He Is My First Olive: Let Me Make A Face While I Swallow It.

I Dare Not Hope. I Never Was Fainthearted Before; But I Cannot Believe Such A Creature Cares For Me.

He Had Tenderness In His Heart — ‘a Soft Place,’ As Nicholas Higgins Called It; But He Had Some Pride In Concealing It; He Kept It Very Sacred And Safe, And Was Jealous Of Every Circumstance That Tried To Gain Admission. But If He Dreaded Exposure Of His Tenderness, He Was Equally Desirous That All Men Should Recognize His Justice; And He Felt That He Had Been Unjust, In Giving So Scornful A Hearing To Anyone Who Had Waited, With Humble Patience, For Five Hours, To Speak To Him.

Margaret Had Always Dreaded Lest Her Courage Should Fail Her In Any Emergency, And She Should Be Proved To Be, What She Dreaded Lest She Was--a Coward. But Now, In This Real Great Time Of Reasonable Fear And Nearness Of Terror, She Forgot Herself, And Felt Only An Intense Sympathy--intense To Painfulness--in The Interests Of The Moment.

I Have Passed Out Of Childhood Into Old Age. I Have Had No Youth - No Womanhood; The Hopes Of Womanhood Have Closed For Me - For I Shall Never Marry; And I Anticipate Cares And Sorrows Just As If I Were An Old Woman, And With The Same Fearful Spirit.