“I will do as you wish, darling.”
“Thank you; and you will take care of little Phil?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Thank you; I know you will do everything right.”
Winifred lay silent after that; it tired her now to talk even a little. The sunset was very bright that evening, and the swallows were making a great twittering; myriads there seemed of them now, gathered in the water-meadows, and there seemed an unusual bustle amongst them on this particular night.
“They will soon be going now,” Winnie said half-aloud, and her mother answered gently:
“Very soon now, my darling.”
Mother and child looked at one another, and Winnie smiled. These two did not need to talk of what was in their inmost hearts, they understood without words. Every morning when the blind first went up, the child had said, “Have the swallows gone yet?” and when she heard the answer she would say, “I am glad; I feel as if I should miss them.”
A good many people came in to kiss Winnie that night, and she said “good-bye” to them all, not “good-night,” though she could hardly have told why.
Papa and mamma stayed on, and nurse; and Dr. Howard seemed to come in the middle of the night.