“I am going to God,” said Mr Brooke. “It is a wonderful happiness that I am soon to be admitted into the presence of the King of Kings. There is no saying, Annie, what marvels will be revealed to me and what glories mine eyes shall look upon. I shall see in His good time the Saviour of the world. When I am ready for that sight of all sights, it will be given to me. But, my own little Annie, even in that moment of satisfaction, when I wake up after His likeness, I shall carry you, my child, in my heart of hearts. I shall look for you, my little one. You will come to me—not yet, my darling, for you are very young, but some day. Promise me, my dearest dear.”
Annie’s choked voice sounded low and faint.
“I cannot hear you, my sweetest. Say the word I want—say the word I want to take away with me.”
“What shall I say, Uncle Maurice?”
“Say ‘Yes’—one word, my darling, that I may carry it with me into the great eternity of God.”
“Yes—oh, yes!” said Annie.
“Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,” said the old man. Then the Angel of Death did open wide his glorious wings, and two bright spirits passed out of that room where one had come in.