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Updated: May 2, 2025
'Tis done, an' to grumble at a dead man's doin's specially if you caan't mend 'em be vain." "My share was half, an' not less," said Chris. "Aye, you say so, but 'tis a deed wheer the blame ban't awften divided equal," answered Mrs. Blanchard. "Wheer's the maiden as caan't wait for her weddin' bells?" The use of the last two words magically swept Chris back into the past.
She uttered them in a sad, low voice, but her hand was in his, pressing it close the while. "Awften an' awften I've axed the A'mighty to give me wan little glint o' knawledge as how 'twould all end. If I'd knawed! But I never guessed how big your sawl was, Martin. I never thought you was the manner of man to love a woman arter that." "God knows what's in my heart, Chris."
God A'mighty 's best an' awnly judge how much you was wrong; an' you knaw He doan't blame 'e, else your heart would have been sore for it these years an' years. You never blamed yourself till now." "Ess, awften an' awften I did. It comed an' went, an' comed an' went again, like winter frosts. True as I'm living it comed an' went like that."
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