CHAPTER TWENTIETH.
"Let them die,
Let them die now, thy children! so thy heart
Shall wear their beautiful image all undimm'd
Within it to the last."
—MRS. HEMANS.
Lily seemed a little stronger in the morning, and the brothers and sisters were allowed to go in by turns and speak to her.
Violet chose to be the last, thinking that would, perhaps, secure a little longer interview.
Lily with mamma by her side, lay propped up with pillows—her eyes bright, a lovely color on her almost transparent cheek, her luxurious hair lying about her like heaps of shining gold, her red lips smiling a joyous welcome, as Vi stooped over her.
Could it be that she was dying?
"Oh, darling, you may get well even yet?" cried Vi, in tones tremulous with joy and hope.
Lily smiled, and stroked her sister's face lovingly with her little thin white hand.
Violet was startled by its scorching heat.