“Where—where—her?” she moaned, striving to stretch forth her hand.
It was lifted and held softly in a tender grasp, and she felt as well a compassionate stroking touch laid upon her forehead. The gentle magnetism of these helped the dying girl to bring into momentary being the image of a countenance close above hers—a dark, beautiful face, all melting now with affection and grief. She smiled faintly into this face, and lay still again for a long time. The breathing grew terribly shorter and more labored, the light faded.