But I wanted the little body that I loved; the little face and hands that had so often kissed and held and clung to me! And when I would not be persuaded, she took me into the big basement-room, where we were all to have had our tea together that afternoon. Little we'd thought of the use that room was to be put to.
There my little angel was, looking as if she was asleep, only so cold and pale. There was a great dented blow on one side of her forehead, where a cruel rock had struck and slain her. Only it had come so sudden, she had had no time to feel fear or pain, and the little lips were smiling still.
They had dressed her in a frilled nightgown of Miss Rosamund's, and had laid her on a small mattress, her little hands outside the sheet; and somebody had scattered a lot of white flowers all over and around her, and a white rosebud was in her fingers.
"You see, she did not suffer. It was all in a moment," said Mrs. Kingscote. While I stood looking, she stooped down to kiss the little thing, and I have always loved her since for that. It seemed to comfort me, and it made me able to cry; and the dear lady cried with me.
"It isn't for very long, you know," she said again. "Only a few years. And they will take such care of your little darling in Paradise. For our Lord Himself is there,—and the holy angels,—and so many who have gone away from earth. They are all full of love and kindness in Paradise, and she will not be lonely. And by-and-by she will be so glad when you go too."
I wondered if she thought I was sure to go, and why she should think it. But I could not speak nor ask questions. I could only cry and let her comfort me.
By-and-by I thought again of Jervis and my other children; and then she led me back to the workroom.
"Miles and Rosie are not hurt at all," she said. "And Louey will soon be better, I hope." She seemed to know all the names quite well "Miles was so good and brave—he saved my boy's life. We shall never never forget that."
She went on to tell me about my husband's state, breaking it gently. It seems that just before the fall of the cliff, Bessie had got off my husband's knee, and gone a few yards out from the cliff—not far enough to save her life; and yet it might have been, but for that one blow on the head, for she was covered over chiefly with earth and sand, and wasn't much hurt in any other part. My husband hadn't moved; and he was terribly crushed by the fall of the rock, though just so far sheltered by the overhanging cliff as not to be buried under the heaviest part; and so he was not killed. But it couldn't be known yet whether he would recover. He had not opened his eyes, nor made any sound, nor given any sign of sense, since first he was found.
Near the Rectory was a tiny little house, hardly bigger than a cottage, where a nice woman lived, named Mrs. Coles. She was the very same that Master Bertram meant when he talked of "Old Nurse;" though I never could see what he meant by saying she and I were alike. She'd been years in service to Mr. Kingscote's mother, and had had the care of him all through his childhood; and when Mr. and Mrs. Kingscote came to live at Ermespoint, nothing would content them but finding a home for Mrs. Coles there too. She'd been settled in near a month; and she'd got three little rooms which she was to let as lodgings to somebody or other, only she hadn't found any lodgers yet. So, by Mr. Kingscote's order, Jervis and Louey had been taken straight to her, Mr. Kingscote knowing she'd do well for them both. Mrs. Coles was a good nurse, and had had a deal of experience; and though she was getting oldish, she had plenty of work in her still.