“‘C. Sackville.’
“The woman in the mulberry-coloured dress closes the letter. It has set in movement before her inward eye a train of images, pictures of past years.
“She sees a child of four years old running to meet her. The hair curls abundantly, the cheeks are delicately pink, the curved lips smiling. In both hands she brings treasures—bright spindle berries heaped together, crimson and orange, in her little hands.
“And the woman hears her glad voice calling: ‘Look, Ellen! corals like Di’s necklace! corals growing on trees!’
“The memory passes, and she sees another scene. The room is darkened; she is sitting by a bed. A child lies on it, tossing restlessly, and all the pretty hair has been cut off. She hears a fretful voice say repeatedly, ‘Sing, Ellen; Ellen, sing.’ And softly, over and over again until weary, she hears herself singing an old ballad to the child:—
“‘London Bridge is broken down,
Dance over my lady lea;
London Bridge is broken down
With a gay lady.