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Автор: Charles Dickens

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At first, there were times, though she was a perfectly happy
young wife, when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and
her eyes would be dimmed. For, there was something coming in the
echoes, something light, afar off, and scarcely audible yet, that
stirred her heart too much. Fluttering hopes and doubts--hopes,
of a love as yet unknown to her: doubts, of her remaining upon
earth, to enjoy that new delight--divided her breast. Among the
echoes then, there would arise the sound of footsteps at her own
early grave; and thoughts of the husband who would be left so
desolate, and who would mourn for her so much, swelled to her
eyes, and broke like waves.

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