g. Our mother had left us too,
a long time ago, and she lay in the cemetery where we sometimes carried
flowers. Theresa was not in the cemetery, but we must think of her as
there; though not as if she had any need of flowers. Having said this,
he looked at us quietly for a minute. Arthur was trying very hard not to
cry, but I was sobbing like the lost child I was, with my cheek against
the floor where I had thrown myself when he said that awful thing about
the cemetery. She there! my sister-mother there! I think he felt a
little sorry for me; for he half stooped as if to lift me up. But he
straightened again and said very sternly:

"Now, children, listen to me. When God takes people to heaven and leaves
us only their cold, dead bodies we carry flowers to their graves and
talk about them some if not very much. But when people die because they
love dark ways better than light, then we do not remember them with
gifts and we do not talk about them. Your sister's name has been spoken
for the last time in this house. You, Arthur, are old enough to know
what I mean when I say that I will never listen to another word about
her from either you or Violet as long as you and I live. She is gone and
nothing that is mine shall she ever touch again.

"You hear me, Arthur; you hear me, Violet. Heed me, or you go too."

His aspect was terrible, so was his purpose; much more terrible than
we realized at the time with our limited understanding and experience.
Later, we came to know the full meaning of this black drop which had
been infused into our lives. When we saw every picture of her destroyed
which had been in the house; her name cut out from the leaves of books;
the little tokens she had given us surreptitiously taken away, till not
a vestige of her once beloved presence remained, we began to realize
that we had indeed lost her.

But children as young as we were then do not long retain the poignancy
of their first griefs. Gradually my memories of that awful night ceased
to disturb my dreams and I was sixteen before they were again recalled
to me with any vividness, and then it was by accident. I had been
strolling through a picture gallery and had stopped short to study more
particularly one which had especially taken my fancy. There were two
ladies sitting on a bench behind me and one of them was evidently very
deaf, for their talk was loud, though I am sure they did not mean for
me to hear, for they were discussing my family. T