“The sorrow in my heart ...”

Catherine opened her eyes to a clear bright morning. Sunlight was streaming through the lace curtains on the window, splashing rays of gold onto her black crepe dress. She had hastened out of that depressing dress last night and left it lying across the small davenport at the foot of her bed. She had been in a hurry to get into bed and be able to finally sob her sorrow into her pillow. The sight of the black dress, now reflecting sunlight, suddenly brought back the turmoil of the past days; once more, she recoiled in disbelief. Finally, she fought back her despair as she struggled to swing her slender legs over the side of the bed. She slipped her feet into soft satin slippers, then pulled her dressing gown from the wardrobe, put it on, tied the sash, and went to the window to look out. There was none of the usual activity in the gardens and the grounds. The fields beyond were deserted. Bird songs outside her window did not bring her the joy she usually felt at hearing their melodic notes. The freshness of the morning was not invigorating; she just felt numb. Sounds of voices from the entrance hall below caught her attention. She had wanted only quiet today, but she heard Mrs. Moore, the housekeeper, and her small staff discussing the tasks that must be done this day. The events of the last week had been overwhelming and grievous for everyone; work today would be comforting and they were off to an early start. Only a short week ago, life for Catherine was near the ideal. She was the youngest of three children. Her two older brothers and her father treated her with love and respect. She was finishing her senior year at school; she planned to attend Normal School to train for a vocation in teaching.