Effie was refreshed and strengthened by two or three hours of quiet sleep. The day passed, the evening came and went, and Christie gave no sign of pain or restlessness.
“It will be about the turn of the night,” said the nurse, raising the night-lamp to look on her face. But it was not. At the turn of the night she awoke, and called her sister by name. Effie’s face was on the pillow beside her, and she kissed her softly, without speaking. Christie fondly returned her caress. She seemed strangely revived.
“Effie,” she said, “do you remember something that our mother used to sing to us—?
“‘No dimming clouds o’ershadow thee,
No dull and darksome night,
But every soul shines as the sun,
And God Himself is light.’”
Yes, Effie remembered it well, and she went on, with no break in her voice, as Christie ceased:
“‘No pain, no pang, no bitter grief,
No woeful night is there;
No sob, no sigh, no cry is heard;
No will-awa’, no care!’”
And many a verse more of that quaint, touching old canticle did she sing, all the time watching the smile of wonderful content that was beautifying the dying face.
“You are quite willing now, Effie?” she said, softly.
“Quite willing,” said Effie, softly.
“And it is coming very near now!”