- Project Runeberg -  Life, letters, and posthumous works of Fredrika Bremer /
328

(1868) [MARC] Author: Fredrika Bremer Translator: Emily Nonnen With: Charlotte Bremer
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328 SKETCHES.

“ And now,” said Helena, “go to bed; it is growing late,
and you have heard a longer homily than you may per-
haps be able to remember. Never mind your portmanteau
to-night; I shall to-morrow morning put into it your Bible
and your cookery-book, and some trifles which we have
. made for you. Good night, my own dear girl.”

Emma kissed, wept, and thanked, and in the fullness of
her young heart did so again and again. There is a period
in life, when we think we can never show enough of grati-
tude and love. Emma went away at last, followed by the
sisters’ blessing.

The two sisters were now left alone. The fire was burning
with expiring flames, and around them it grew more and
more dark. The gale began blowing in louder and louder
gusts round their dwelling, intermingled with strange sounds,
like human sighs. Gradually their hearts were seized with
deep melancholy. It is so with us in this life when once
we have experienced a deep sorrow, that even the smallest
additional pain suffices to make the old wounds bleed afresh,
even if time has succeeded to throw over them its healing
balm. Love and sorrow in our soul resemble the fire in
some deep mines; it may for a long time be apparently
smothered, we fancy that it is entirely extinguished, but —
some sudden draught, some ashes dropped, and the flames,
wild and consuming, will break forth with redoubled fury.

The two sisters had, during four years, directed Emma’s
education ; she had become dear to them, and they felt
painfully the impending parting. But she would be happy,
and then, as Helena used to say in similar cases, “all was
well.” But the new impression of sadness which they had
just experieuced, awakened within them another feeling
of pain, often conquered, but as often returning with the
same intensity, and which now, when their hearts were
stirred, forced itself upon them more vividly than ever.
An empty chair was standing between the two sisters, and
on it their eyes were fixed. Now they were but two,—

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