“Yes, my dear,” she went on, “it is a long time now since I used to nurse and fondle her, and she used to call me Natasha.  She used to come jumping upon me, and caressing and kissing me, and say, ’my Nashik, my darling, my ducky,’ and I used to answer jokingly, ’Well, my love, I don’t believe that you do love me.  You will be a grown-up young lady soon, and going away to be married, and will leave your Nashik forgotten.’  Then she would grow thoughtful and say, ’I think I had better not marry if my Nashik cannot go with me, for I mean never to leave her.’  Yet, alas!  She has left me now!  Who was there in the world she did not love?  Yes, my dearest, it must never be possible for you to forget your Mamma.  She was not a being of earth—­she was an angel from Heaven.  When her soul has entered the heavenly kingdom she will continue to love you and to be proud of you even there.”

“But why do you say ’when her soul has entered the heavenly kingdom’?” I asked.  “I believe it is there now.”

“No, my dearest,” replied Natalia as she lowered her voice and pressed herself yet closer to me, “her soul is still here,” and she pointed upwards.  She spoke in a whisper, but with such an intensity of conviction that I too involuntarily raised my eyes and looked at the ceiling, as though expecting to see something there.  “Before the souls of the just enter Paradise they have to undergo forty trials for forty days, and during that time they hover around their earthly home.” [A Russian popular legend.]

She went on speaking for some time in this strain—­speaking with the same simplicity and conviction as though she were relating common things which she herself had witnessed, and to doubt which could never enter into any one’s head.  I listened almost breathlessly, and though I did not understand all she said, I never for a moment doubted her word.

“Yes, my darling, she is here now, and perhaps looking at us and listening to what we are saying,” concluded Natalia.  Raising her head, she remained silent for a while.  At length she wiped away the tears which were streaming from her eyes, looked me straight in the face, and said in a voice trembling with emotion: 

“Ah, it is through many trials that God is leading me to Him.  Why, indeed, am I still here?  Whom have I to live for?  Whom have I to love?”

“Do you not love us, then?” I asked sadly, and half-choking with my tears.

“Yes, God knows that I love you, my darling; but to love any one as I loved her—­that I cannot do.”

She could say no more, but turned her head aside and wept bitterly.  As for me, I no longer thought of going to sleep, but sat silently with her and mingled my tears with hers.

Presently Foka entered the room, but, on seeing our emotion and not wishing to disturb us, stopped short at the door.

“Do you want anything, my good Foka?” asked Natalia as she wiped away her tears.