"Ah, she looks beautiful—the angels of God are all beautiful. They fly about in heaven and have no pain, Kate. And look at Ella's wings how they shine. Stand up straight, Kate, and thou wilt see better."
The Procession. Page 275.
Kate leaned a little forward over the child's head and looked out. "Yes, yes; one would almost think that they were real. But here is another messenger coming to the door with a telegram, and there is no one downstairs to take it from him."
"Thou canst go down," cried Violet eagerly. "I am quite safe here in the window, and quite, quite comfortable."
"Thou art sure, dear heart?"
"Yes; I can hold on by the box until thou comest back."
Here all at once the children's voices burst forth in the street beneath, and in a delicious harmony took up the melodious hymn,—