“I ain’t a bit afraid to die now, Georgie. I was at first, but I asked Jesus so many times to take the fear away, and He has, and forgave me all the naughty things I ever did,—the lies I used to tell, and the exaggerations, which Jack said were bad as lies; and I’m going to Heaven, where you’ll come some time, sister, won’t you?”
“Oh, Annie, my darling, my darling, I don’t know; I am afraid not. Heaven is not for such as I am,” Georgie cried, piteously, while Annie continued:
“Why, sister? yes it is; and you are real good, and you’ll come some day, and find me waiting for you right by the door; but, Georgie,”—and Annie’s lip began to quiver as there suddenly recurred to her mind the perplexing question which had troubled her so a few hours before, and which Jack had said Georgie might answer,—“but, Georgie, lay me down, please; on the pillow, so,—that’s nice; and now tell me where is my mother,—if Jack’s and your mother was not mine.”
The great blue eyes of the child were fixed intently upon Georgie, who started and staggered backward as if smitten with a heavy blow. Edna had stolen from the room, and only Jack was there, sitting in a distant corner. To him Georgie turned quickly, and asked, under her breath:
“What does this mean? Who has been disturbing her?”
“It was the merest accident,” Jack said, coming forward at once. “A chance remark I made about her not being mother’s own child. Your secret is safe, if that is what you fear.”
He said the last in a low tone, and then walked back to his seat upon the sofa. For a few moments Annie lay quiet, and Georgie hoped she might have forgotten that her question was unanswered, but she soon roused up and returned to the subject so painful to Georgie.
“How will I know my mother if I never saw her here, and don’t know how she looks nor who she was?” she said, and her eyes held as by a spell poor remorseful Georgie’s, who faltered out:
“Your mother is not in Heaven, Annie.”
“Not in Heaven?” and the paroxysm of terror was something fearful to witness as Annie writhed upon her pillow. “Where is she then? Not in the bad place? Not there? My mother! Oh Georgie, oh Georgie.”