was plain to all.

They bethought them of a removal from the scene of this last sorrow; of
trying whether change of place would rouse or cheer him. His brother
sought the advice of those who were accounted skilful in such matters,
and they came and saw him. Some of the number staid upon the spot,
conversed with him when he would converse, and watched him as he
wandered up and down, alone and silent. Move him where they might,
they said, he would ever seek to get back there. His mind would run
upon that spot. If they confined him closely, and kept a strict guard
upon him, they might hold him prisoner, but if he could by any means
escape, he would surely wander back to that place, or die upon the road.

The boy, to whom he had submitted at first, had no longer any influence
with him. At times he would suffer the child to walk by his side, or
would even take such notice of his presence as giving him his hand, or
would stop to kiss his cheek, or pat him on the head. At other times,
he would entreat him--not unkindly--to be gone, and would not brook him
near. But, whether alone, or with this pliant friend, or with those
who would have given him, at any cost or sacrifice, some consolation or
some peace of mind, if happily the means could have been devised; he
was at all times the same--with no love or care for anything in life--a
broken-hearted man.

At length, they found, one day, that he had risen early, and, with his
knapsack on his back, his staff in hand, her own straw hat, and little
basket full of such things as she had been used to carry, was gone. As
they were making ready to pursue him far and wide, a frightened
schoolboy came who had seen him, but a moment before, sitting in the
church--upon her grave, he said.

They hastened there, and going softly to the door, espied him in the
attitude of one who waited patiently. They did not disturb him then,
but kept a watch upon him all that day. When it grew quite dark, he
rose and returned home, and went to bed, murmuring to himself, 'She
will come to-morrow!'

Upon the morrow he was there again from sunrise until night; and still
at night he laid him down to rest, and murmured, 'She will come
to-morrow!'

And thenceforth, every day, and all day long, he waited at her grave,
for her. How many pictures of new journeys over pleasant country, of
resting-places under the free broad sky, of rambles in the fields and
woods, and paths not often trodden--how man