For another few minutes we lay quietly in each other's arms. We were together that night perhaps one hour in all; an hour in which my whole soul changed. At last he had to go. Though he only whispered, I could hear that the whisper was husky. His little body trembled in my arms.
"Good-night, Mary."
"Oh, my dear, my dear, my dear." I hugged him harder than ever to me. I would not let him go.
Then the good-bye kiss, sweetest of all, too sad for tears. His soft boy's lips brushed mine; it seemed too that they touched the tendrils of my heart and made it blossom like the garden of lilies you read of in Solomon's Song. A spirit of loveliness filled me. He got up; now it was last good-bye. I saw his face for a moment in the beam of moonlight that came slantwise through my window. For many years that vision was the chief treasure I had: a little boy in a long white nightgown, a head of tousled curls, a bright face flushed with joy and tears, radiant with my embrace, radiant with love for me.
"Good-night, Mary, good-night. I'll never forget you; I'll always love you."
"Good-night, Robbie."
CHAPTER XVIII: NEW YEAR'S NIGHT
I awoke next morning to see Aunt Martha standing by my bedside.