Chapter 10: The death of Maria

Ellie flung herself down by her mother's bed and grasped the coverlet with her hands. Her cry of anguish could be heard downstairs and the servants paused and looked at one another.

'No, No, Mama can't be dying, she can't be!'

Maria lay back on the pillows, her face pale as a statue, her eyes open but gazing into an unknown space before her. It was as if she alone could see something there. Ellie looked in the direction of those staring eyes but saw nothing except an oil painting of St Anne and St Elizabeth, a favourite of her mother's. There was no sign of recognition in Maria's face, just that blank stare. She had been lying in the crimson bed for months now. In her forty-fourth year, a paralytic seizure had overcome her unexpectedly and she could no longer walk or talk properly. Her once-lovely face sagged and drooped while food dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Of late she had refused food altogether.

Joshua rose from the chair at the side of Maria's bed where lately he spent most of his evenings, talking to his wife, watching as she slept and trying to tempt her to eat with specially prepared broths and little morsels that she would once have enjoyed. Ellie would come up in the daytime and sit beside the bed, reading aloud or just holding her mother's hands and hoping for a flicker of recognition or response. All she received for her pains was that stare turning upon her, that frightening, unseeing stare. Faithful Mulhall had made up a little truckle bed at the foot of the great four-poster and stayed by her mistress day and night.

Joshua raised his bowed head and looked wearily at his grief-stricken daughter. 'Ellie, dearest, she no longer eats or speaks or walks. Your mother wants to die. I know it. She cannot speak but she has made signs to me, touching her heart, lifting her eyes, looking at her Bible. It comforts her when I read passages from St. John, her favourite Gospel. She especially loves me to read of Mary Magdalene discovering Jesus walking in the garden after His Transformation. He called her 'Mary' and she turned to him and said 'Master'... she knew Him because of the way He said her name. It is a profound moment of recognition of the Lord. It always makes her weep. Tears stream down her face.'

Joshua sighed and turned to look at his wife. Her breath was low, almost nothing now.

'Poor Mama,' said Ellie, her voice choking with grief. 'Why would she want to die, Papa, when we love her so, when we need her so much? She is too young; she cannot go and leave us now.'

Joshua stroked his daughter's head and gazed at his wife lying so silent and motionless. Mulhall and the doctor stood on the other side, the maid gazing at her mistress with great love. Maria had inspired this sort of adoration in all she had met; she was a woman rich in wisdom and beauty of soul.

'I'll read that passage to her again,' said Joshua, 'I know she hears me, even now that her soul is departing. My beloved Maria ...' he fumbled with the Bible, trying to hold in his emotion, and found the passage already marked from many openings. He then began to read in his quiet calm voice. Ellie felt she couldn't bear to listen and yet the words held comfort. If her mother thought so too, that was all that mattered in this moment. It was true. Maria was just a shell now, not the beautiful being she had once been.

Ellie watched her mother intently as her father read out the passage from St. John.

'And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord and I know not where they have laid Him. ' Joshua's voice carried on while Ellie and Mulhall stood in silence. Maria's breath rattled forth in one long last sigh.

The servants downstairs paused as they heard the howl of grief from Maria's chamber. They put down their implements and stared at each other in dismay.