The Wives of the Dead

The Wives of the Dead

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Hawthorne From "The Snow Image and Other Twice-Told Tales" #70
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Title: The Wives of The Dead (From: "The Snow Image and Other
Twice-Told Tales")
Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Release Date: Nov, 2005 [EBook #9243] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on September 18,
2003]
Edition: 10

Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE
WIVES OF THE DEAD ***

This eBook was produced by David Widger [[email protected]]

THE SNOW-IMAGE
AND
OTHER TWICE-TOLD TALES

THE WIVES OF THE DEAD
By
Nathaniel Hawthorne

The following story, the simple and domestic incidents of which may
be deemed scarcely worth relating, after such a lapse of time, awakened
some degree of interest, a hundred years ago, in a principal seaport of
the Bay Province. The rainy twilight of an autumn day,--a parlor on the
second floor of a small house, plainly furnished, as beseemed the
middling circumstances of its inhabitants, yet decorated with little
curiosities from beyond the sea, and a few delicate specimens of Indian
manufacture,--these are the only particulars to be premised in regard to
scene and season. Two young and comely women sat together by the
fireside, nursing their mutual and peculiar sorrows. They were the
recent brides of two brothers, a sailor and a landsman, and two
successive days had brought tidings of the death of each, by the
chances of Canadian warfare and the tempestuous Atlantic. The
universal sympathy excited by this bereavement drew numerous
condoling guests to the habitation of the widowed sisters. Several,
among whom was the minister, had remained till the verge of evening;
when, one by one, whispering many comfortable passages of Scripture,
that were answered by more abundant tears, they took their leave, and
departed to their own happier homes. The mourners, though not
insensible to the kindness of their friends, had yearned to be left alone.

United, as they had been, by the relationship of the living, and now
more closely so by that of the dead, each felt as if whatever consolation
her grief admitted were to be found in the bosom of the other. They
joined their hearts, and wept together silently. But after an hour of such
indulgence, one of the sisters, all of whose emotions were influenced
by her mild, quiet, yet not feeble character, began to recollect the
precepts of resignation and endurance which piety had taught her, when
she did not think to need them. Her misfortune, besides, as earliest
known, should earliest cease to interfere with her regular course of
duties; accordingly, having placed the table before the fire, and
arranged a frugal meal, she took the hand of her companion.
"Come, dearest sister; you have eaten not a morsel to-day," she said.
"Arise, I pray you, and let us ask a blessing on that which is provided
for us."
Her sister-in-law was of a lively and irritable temperament, and the first
pangs of her sorrow had been expressed by shrieks and passionate
lamentation. She now shrunk from Mary's words, like a wounded
sufferer from a hand that revives the throb.
"There is no blessing left for me, neither will I ask it!" cried Margaret,
with a fresh burst of tears. "Would it were His will that I might never
taste food more!"
Yet she trembled at these rebellious expressions, almost as soon as they
were uttered, and, by degrees, Mary succeeded in bringing her sister's
mind nearer to the situation of her own. Time went on, and their usual
hour of repose arrived. The brothers and their brides, entering the
married state with no more than the slender means which then
sanctioned such a step, had confederated themselves in one household,
with equal rights to the parlor, and claiming exclusive privileges in