The Argosy — page 376: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Mrs. Henry Wood. 353 XII. I must here pause, though I have left much unsaid that I had wished to record, and fear I shall yet have to tax the leniency of the reader in a further paper, for I have already exceeded the limits of this one. But before closing this article, I should like to reply to innumer- able questions as to whether or not ‘‘ Lady Grace” was completed. Yes; every line of it. In this, as in all the events of her life, my mother made no mistakes. When the pen was laid down for the last time, there was nothing to be ended. Apart from ‘‘ Lady Grace,” she has left much finished work behind her. A long serial story that will go through the whole of next year’s Arcosy. A long ‘Johnny Ludlow” story that will go through very many months of 1889. Another long “ Johnny Ludlow” that will go through many months of 1890. Various short “‘ Johnny Ludlow” stories that will appear in 1891. Every word of all these stories is absolutely completed and ready for the printers. And, if I mistake not : but of this I am not certain, for I have not yet had courage to look into a secretaire that was never opened by anyone but herself, and on whose contents her own beautiful eyes last rested : there are also one or two other completed works of con- siderable length to add to the number. Thus, for some years to come, her hand will be almost as visible as ever in the pages of the ARcosy. Whilst the hand that has long been at the helm, in conjunction with her own, will still be there. But the wise counsellor; the voice, with its sweet and silver tones; the beautiful eyes that ever gazed with such serene affection— all this is gone. Silence remains, and unspeakable sorrow, and a task that has become lonely and must inevitably remain so. It is singular that the title of the very last ‘‘ Johnny Ludlow ” story she ever wrote was ‘‘SILENT FOR EVER.” I was present as she ended the last word, and, putting it aside, she said with a wistful look in the large, earnest eyes that went as a knife to the heart : “My work is almost done. It is certain that I shall never write much more.” She never wrote another line. Ay ; Silent for ever in this world. But as her pure and lovely spirit entered the Celestial realms for which it was so meet, I can only imagine the whole Company of Heaven hastening to receive her, with songs of praise, and harps attuned, and voices, ten thousand times ten thousand, ringing the raptures of welcome. Silent for ever here, but through Heaven’s eternal spaces and through the Eternity of Heaven, rejoicing for evermore. CHARLES W. Woop. COMmicooolkks ) (SO)