"I can see her now," said Cuckoo, the blindness of death in her wide eyes, which stared vacantly where Janet was not; "at least, I see some one. Isn't she holding her hand to her forehead?"
"Yes."
The last tears Cuckoo was destined to shed stood in her blind eyes.
"Good-bye, dear Janet," she gasped.
"Good-bye, Cuckoo."
"Send her away. Is she quite gone, Arthur?"
"Yes, dearest."
"I must go too. I don't know how to leave you, but I must. I cannot see you, but you are with me in the darkness. Take me in your arms and let me die in them. Is that your cheek against mine? How cold it is! Hold your dear hands to my face that I may kiss them too. They have been kind, kind hands to me. How my poor Arthur trembles! You were too good for me, Arthur. You have been the only real friend I've ever had in the world. More than father and mother to me. More than any one."
"You did love me, little one?"