The door was open, outside it was still dark, and a fine rain was falling which made the raw morning air damp and unpleasantly cold.
The children shivered as they waited, but Cousin Jane did not keep them long. She came down first with Frankie to let him say good-by to his cousins while Emma was occupied with last preparations. Poor Cousin Jane's natural good nature triumphed at the last moment. She seemed to have provided herself with half-crowns innumerable, and as she kissed all the children she insisted on shoveling big silver pieces into their hands. She said she hoped at all events to bring Frankie back for a long visit in the spring, and as she bade Murtagh good-by, she added warmly:
"I am very sorry you're not coming with us, Murtagh, and I'm sure Frankie's as sorry as you are. Well, it's not my fault; I'd a great deal rather have taken you than have you all disappointed."
The last words were perhaps more true than judicious, but at the moment Emma came down, and Cousin Jane went to arrange the carriage for Frankie.
It turned out to be a long process, and while the others gathered round the carriage Frankie stood with Murtagh and Winnie in the deep window recess, silently looking out at the wet steps and the dark figures faintly illuminated by the yellow light of the carriage lamps.
The three little hearts were very full, but not a word was spoken till at last Cousin Jane called, "Come now, sonnie! we're nearly ready."
At the sound of her voice Frankie turned slowly away from the window; then, throwing his arms round Murtagh's neck, he kissed him passionately three or four times. "Good-by," he whispered, "good-by!" But there seemed to be something else he wanted to say. His deep brown eyes were fixed upon Murtagh's face with a wistful, yearning earnestness that made Murtagh, with one of his sudden impulses of tenderness, pass his arm round Frankie's neck and whisper, "Never mind, you'll soon come back!"
Winnie, who had been watching the preparations with a half-angry feeling, suddenly felt a choking lump rise in her throat. She took one of Frankie's hands, but Frankie seemed scarcely to notice her, and, drawing a long breath, he continued in a rapid whisper:
"Myrrh, I must tell you now, because perhaps this is the last. I think I'm dying; and I'm very glad, because you'll be much richer. They told me about it when they wanted me to get well. And if I die before I come back, you're to have my pony, and Winnie has Royal. And—and you won't forget all about me, because I do love you so!" His voice faltered, and neither Winnie nor Murtagh could speak. "I will always remember you there," he added in a still lower whisper; "being dead can't make me forget."
One last silent kiss from both the children, and he went slowly towards the carriage trying to hide his emotion from his mother and sister. Murtagh and Winnie forgot that any one was there, and tears trickled unheeded over their cheeks as they stood together on the threshold watching the little wasted figure descend the steps.