Scenes of Clerical Life

Conclusion

Only once again in his life has Amos Barton visited Milly's grave. It was

in the calm and softened light of an autumnal afternoon, and he was not

alone. He held on his arm a young woman, with a sweet, grave face, which

strongly recalled the expression of Mrs. Barton's, but was less lovely in

form and colour. She was about thirty, but there were some premature

lines round her mouth and eyes, which told of early anxiety.

Amos himself was much changed. His thin circlet of hair was nearly white,

and his walk was no longer firm and upright. But his glance was calm, and

even cheerful, and his neat linen told of a woman's care. Milly did not

take all her love from the earth when she died. She had left some of it

in Patty's heart.

All the other children were now grown up, and had gone their several

ways. Dickey, you will be glad to hear, had shown remarkable talents as

an engineer. His cheeks are still ruddy, in spite of mixed mathematics,

and his eyes are still large and blue; but in other respects his person

would present no marks of identification for his friend Mrs. Hackit, if

she were to see him; especially now that her eyes must be grown very dim,

with the wear of more than twenty additional years. He is nearly six feet

high, and has a proportionately broad chest; he wears spectacles, and

rubs his large white hands through a mass of shaggy brown hair. But I am

sure you have no doubt that Mr. Richard Barton is a thoroughly good

fellow, as well as a man of talent, and you will be glad any day to shake

hands with him, for his own sake as well as his mother's.

Patty alone remains by her father's side, and makes the evening sunshine

of his life.