Winnie sat grave and pensive for a long while; but there was no fear in her face, hardly any surprise. Both children were too much in earnest to feel that anything strange had passed between them.
“I wonder if that is what they meant. I wonder if I am going there when the swallows go.”
CHAPTER VI.
WINIFRED’S BROTHERS.
Winifred went away from little Phil’s home in a grave and quiet mood; but she did not feel unhappy, and she did not feel afraid.
This serious mood lasted for many days, during which the child did a great deal of thinking, although, with the invariable reticence of childhood, she did not speak of her thoughts to those about her.
She did not leave Phil’s couch under any distinct impression of approaching death. What had passed between the two children was not sufficient to make Winnie think she was going to die; but the talk with the sick boy had put new thoughts into her head, made plain some puzzling questions which had troubled her before, and given her food for much meditation.
The sense of approaching change seemed to overshadow her more and more as days passed on.
Nobody spoke to her of any journey, and yet something in Winnie’s heart seemed to tell her every day that she was going away—that a time would soon come when she would have to say good-bye to those around her, and go, she knew not whither.
She watched the swallows with an ever-increasing interest, for were they not going too before very long? They, too, were feeling as she was feeling, that some power stronger than themselves was working within them, and would in time urge them to the last flight. They would have to go when they were bidden, and they would obey the voiceless call without a murmur and without a fear, and why should she not do the same?