When Ernestine went in later, pale but quiet, her mother turned toward her with a smile.
"Kiss me, my daughter, my baby!" she said, "and be at peace, as I am."
The windows of the little bedroom faced the west, and toward evening Mrs. Alroy asked the nurse to draw back the curtains. "It has been a stormy day," she said, "but the sun is setting clear. I think I will go to sleep."
And she closed her tired eyes, and "fell on sleep" without being touched by the dreaded pain.
When they knew that it was indeed all over, they led Ernestine away, and she allowed them to put on her hat and went submissively home with Mrs. Burton.
When she returned to her own home again, the little room had been transformed into a bower of flowers, and Mrs. Alroy slept under their fragrant covering, beautiful and serene, with a smile on her lips. Ernestine was met on the threshold by a tall, handsome man, who put his arms about her and said how glad he was to see his little niece. He had come at once in response to Mr. Allen's telegram.
All was quiet and beautiful. A dozen or so friends gathered to listen to the sweet words of farewell to the dead and of benediction to the living; and then Mr. Van Orten took his sister home with him, that she might lie beside her kindred in the little old village on the banks of the Hudson.
CHAPTER XIX.
A BUSY MONTH.
Mr. van Orten left his niece behind him reluctantly, but Mr. Allen had convinced him that his sister had decided wisely, and that nothing could be better for Ernestine during the coming month than the calm and cheerful atmosphere of Mrs. Burton's home. Ernestine's own cot had been brought and placed in Winnie's room, and the two girls were tucked in every night by the same motherly hands. Little Ralph took Ernestine at once into his affections, made her smile at his quaint fancies and cunning little tongue, and his father and brother treated her as if she had always been one of them.