The next morning was bright, balmy, and beautiful, and at an early
hour Edith arose and went down to Nina, who heard her step in the
hall, and called to her to come.
"Darling Miggie, I dreamed you were gone," she said, "and, I cried
so hard that it woke Arthur up. He sleeps here every night, on
that wide lounge," and she pointed toward a corner, "I've grown so
silly that I won't let any body else take care of me but Arthur
boy--he does it so nice and lifts me so carefully. Hasn't he grown
pale and thin?"
Edith hardly knew, for she had not ventured to look fully at him,
but she assumed that he had, and Nina continued: "He's a darling
boy, and Nina loves him now."
"How is your head this morning," Edith asked, and Nina replied,
"It's better. It keeps growing better, some days it's clear as a
bell, but I don't like it so well, for I know then that you ain't
Miggie,--not the real Miggie who was sent home in mother's coffin.
We have a new burying ground, one father selected long ago, the
sweetest spot you ever saw, and they are moving the bodies there
now.
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