Cicely's voice was very low and faint; but we could hear her talkin' to him, good, I know, though I didn't hear her words. At last it was all still, and we heard the doctor go to the bedside; and we all went in,—Josiah and the children and me. And as we stood there, a light fell on Cicely's face,—every one in the room saw it,—a white, pure light, like no other light on earth, unless it was something like that wonderful new light—that has a soul. It was something like that clear white light, falling through a soft shade. It was jest as plainly visible to us as the lamplight at the other end of the room.
It rested there on her sweet face, on her wide-open brown eyes, on her smilin' lips. She lay there, rapt, illumined, glorified, apart from us all. For that strange, beautiful glow on her face wrapped her about, separated her from us all, who stood outside.
The boy had fallen asleep, his dimpled arms around her neck, and his moist, rosy face against her white one. She held him there close to her heart; but in the awe, the wonder of what we saw, we hardly noticed the boy.
She heard voices we could not hear, for she answered them in low tones,—contented, happy tones. She saw faces we couldn't see, for she looked at them with wondern' rapture in her eyes. She was away from us, fur away from us who loved her,—we who were on this earth still. Love still held her here, human love yet held her by a slight link to the human; but her sweet soul had got with its true kindred, the pure in heart.
But still her arms was round the boy,—white, soft arms of flesh, that held him close to her heart. And at the very last, she fixed her eyes on him; and, oh! what a look that was,—a look of such full peace, and rapturous content, as if she knew all, and was satisfied with all that should happen to him. As if her care for him, her love for him, had blossomed, and bore the ripe fruit of blessedness.
At last that beautiful light grew dimmer, and more dim, till it was gone—gone with the pure soul of our sweet Cicely.
That night, way along in the night, I wuzn't sleeping, and I wuzn't crying, though I had loved Cicely so well. No: I felt lifted up in my mind, inspired, as if I had seen somethin' so beautiful that I could never forget it. I felt perhaps somethin' as our old 4 mothers did when they would see an angel standin' with furled wings outside their tents.