The infant again gave a feeble sound, and once more the white features moved, the eyes opened, and a voice said, so faintly, that Arthur, as he hung over her, alone could hear it, ‘My baby! O, let me see it!’
‘Bring the child,’ and at the sound of those words the gleam of life spread over her face more completely.
He could not move from her side, and Sarah placed the little creature upon his broad hand. He held it close to her. ‘Our baby!’ again she murmured, and tried to kiss it, but it made another slight noise, and this overcame her completely, the deathly look returned, and he hastily gave back the infant.
She strove hard for utterance, and he could hardly catch her gasping words, ‘You’ll be fond of it, and think of me.’
‘Don’t, don’t talk so, dearest. You will soon be better. You are better. Let me give you this.’
‘Please, I had rather lie still. Do let me.’ Then again looking up, as if she had been losing the consciousness of his presence, ‘Oh! it is you. Are you come? Kiss me and wish me good-bye.’
‘You are better—only take this. Won’t you? You need not move; Violet, Violet, only try. To please me! There, well done, my precious one. Now you will be more comfortable.’
‘Thank you, oh no! But I am glad you are come. I did wish to be a good wife. I had so much to say to you—if I could—but I can’t remember. And my baby; but oh, this is dying,’ as the sinking returned. ‘O, Arthur, keep me, don’t let me die!’ and she clung to him in terror.
He flung his arm closer round her, looking for help to the doctors. ‘You shall not, you will not, my own, my darling.’
‘You can’t help it,’ sighed she. ‘And I don’t know how—if some one would say a prayer?’