She did not attempt to speak as Edith came in,
but her eyes smiled a welcome, and her thin, wasted fingers
pointed to where Edith was to sit upon the bed beside her. Arthur
sat on the other side, holding one of Nina's hands, and the other
was given to Edith, who pressed it to her lips, while her tears
dropped upon it like rain. The sight of them disturbed the sick
girl, and shaking her wealth of curls which, since Edith saw them,
had grown thick and long, she whispered,
"Don't, Miggie; tears are not for Nina; she's so glad, for she is
almost home. She'll go down to the river brink with your arms and
Arthur boy's around her. Precious Miggie, nice Arthur. Nina is
happy to-night."
Such were the disjointed sentences she kept whispering, while her
eyes turned from Edith to Arthur and from Arthur back to Edith,
resting longer there, and the expression of the face told of the
unutterable joy within. Softly the twilight shadows stole into the
room, and the servants glided in and out, casting furtive and
wondering glances at Edith, who saw nothing save the clear blue
eyes shining upon her, even through the gathering darkness, and
telling her of the love which could not be expressed.
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