"He can't come," the nurse said, after a moment, in which she turned away.
"You promised," Polly said faintly.
"I know it," the nurse said. "He should come if he could, but he can't."
"Is he sick?" Polly said after a pause. "Did father hurt him?"
"Yes, he hurt him. He hurt him very much, but he can never hurt him any more. Orlando is dead."
Polly lay quite silent, nor did her face change as she heard the words; but a smile came presently, and her eyes lightened.
"You didn't know," she said. "Orlando has come. He is right here, and somebody is carrying him. He is putting out his arms."
The child had raised herself, and looked eagerly toward the foot of the bed, "She is bringing him to me. She says, 'Polly, you 're going to be a lady and never do what you don't want to any more.' I thought I should be a lady sometime, because I wanted to so much; but I didn't think it would be so soon. They won't know me in the Buildings. I'm going to be a lady, and never—"
Polly's eyes had closed. She fell back. What she had seen no man could know, but the smile stayed.