"I can't speak—it hurts! You ask?"
There was an instant's shy reluctance, but at such a moment she could not think of self.
Others simply stood around, waiting. Lettice looked at none of them. She knew that Theodosia, Dr. Bryant, Felix, Susanna, were present; yet as she knelt, with bowed head, clasping the boy's hand, she had a sense of being alone with Keith before the Heavenly Throne.
In soft tones she uttered the words of her own old evening prayer, learnt long ago from Cecilia, and taught later to Keith, only changing the pronouns to suit the needs of the present occasion, and bringing in Keith's name. He joined brokenly in the familiar sentences: and then a fit of choking came on. Theodosia interfered to give help: her own face ghastly. When the attack passed off, it left the boy unconscious.
"Is this true?" the doctor asked, in a voice of suppressed pain.
He had no immediate answer. Theodosia's gaze was riveted on her boy's face, over which a marked change was creeping. It had come without warning: and it deepened fast. Again he struggled for breath: and once more, with returning sense, his eyes sought Lettice's face. A smile glimmered: and one word passed his lips, that word of "hope for the dying." He said distinctly—"JESUS!"
"Keith, darling, look at mamsie! Give poor mamsie one smile."
He made an effort to obey: but in the act, his eyes closed.
There was another slight struggle: and the child was gone.
Silence again fell upon them all; and Lettice trembled, holding the small lifeless hand. Theodosia stood up white and stern.