Then he lay very quiet and tired, but presently grew a little stronger, and said without opening his eyes,—
'It's true about the everlasting arms, Meg. I confessed to my Redeemer and I'm shriven, tell daddy, don't forget. I had the Holy Communion, darling. The Padre here is such a good chap. He lighted two tall candles, but I couldn't blow 'em out, tell Aunt Amelia!' and his eyes were twinkling when he opened them. Then he was quiet again, and after a moment said,—
'He is so perfect if one even tries to be dutiful. I do adore Him so.' And then, 'Tell me about the garden.'
I told him all about the flowers, and which of the roses were in bloom, and about Dame Nature making the scent, and what Toby had said about the stork.
'And is he coming, Meg?'
'Oh, Ross, I think I've heard the faintest far-off flutter of his wings.'
'Give him my love,' he whispered.
'Who, darling?' I inquired, thinking he hadn't understood.
'The little son,' he said.
Then he lay quiet, and as the day began to dawn his hands grew damp. The shadows seemed to deepen on his face, and in his eyes there was a strange and far-off look, as if he saw beyond the present time, and gazed out into eternity. It was a very lovely, wondering look.