“And now you must lie still and rest.”
“I will—soon. Dear friends,” she continued, addressing the group around the bed, “you will please withdraw now and leave me alone with my child. Go you also, dear Ralph, and leave Margaret with me. You will have her all to yourself soon. Well, then, kiss me before you go,” she added, seeing Ralph Houston hesitated. He bent down and pressed a reverential kiss upon her cold forehead, and a loving one upon her fading lips, and then arose and silently followed the others from the room.
And the mother and child were left alone.
The room seemed changed and darkened. The shadow of some “coming event” other than death hung over them.
Mrs. Helmstedt lay with her hands folded in what seemed prayer; but was only deep thought.
Margaret stood affectionately waiting her wishes.
Neither spoke for a few minutes.
Then Mrs. Helmstedt said, in a changed and solemn voice, whose sound caused Margaret’s heart to thrill with strange dread:
“Come hither, my dove.”
“I am here, sweet, dear mother,” replied the girl, striving to repress her grief.