The little ones had run to some corner to cry; Winthrop was nowhere; and the mother of the family stood alone and still by the table in the kitchen where they had left her.
An old black woman, the sole house servant of the family, presently came in, and while taking up two or three of the plates, cast looks of affectionate pity at her mistress and friend.

She had been crying herself, but her sorrow had taken a quiet form.
"Don't ye!" she said in a troubled voice, and laying her shrivelled hand timidly on Mrs.Landholm's shoulder, -- "don't ye, Mis' Landholm.

He's in the Lord's hand, -- and just you let him be there." Mrs.Landholm threw her apron over her face and went out of the kitchen into her own room.

The old woman continued to go round the table, gathering the plates, but very evidently busy with something else; and indeed humming or talking to herself, in a voice far from steady, "'There is a happy land, Where parting is unknown -- '" She broke off and sat down and put her face in her hands and wept.
"Oh Lord! -- oh good Lord! -- I wish I was there! -- Be still Karen -- that's very wicked -- wait, wait.

'They shall not be ashamed that wait for him,' he said, -- They will not be ashamed," she repeated, looking up, while the tears streamed down her cheeks.