“My little dearest—oh, Betty Berry—you have done so well. You have paid the price for a World-Man——”
Morning followed her.... Betty’s eyes were opened—fixed upon Helen Quiston.
“What did you say?” she questioned wonderingly.
“God love you, Betty. I said you had paid the price for a World-Man——”
She raised on her elbow alone, her eyes now looking beyond the woman to Morning.
“He is there,” she whispered. “He is there. He has come.”
Her hand stretched toward him, and sank slowly to his brow as he knelt.
“My love,” she said.... “It is all right. I see it all once more. It is so good and right—just as your Guardian told me.... It was only the birth-pangs I suffered. They were hard.... Birth is hard, but death is easy. Don’t you see, Helen, he was my little baby?... Oh, you came so hard, John Morning—and, oh, I love you so!”
He saw the fact of her passing, but the deeper realization was slow. It was much to him, for the instant, that she spoke and looked into his eyes.
“I love you, Betty Berry,” he said, his voice lifting. “I love you as a saint, as a mother—as a child!”