"
"An' eberyting in de room stands jees' as dey did den, honey," said Aunt
Chloe. And approaching the bed, her eyes swimming in tears, and laying her
hand upon the pillow, "jes' here my precious young missus lie, wid cheeks
'mos' as white as de linen, an' eyes so big an' bright, an' de lubly curls
streamin' all roun', an' she say, weak an' low, 'Mammy, bring me my baby.'
Den I put you in her arms, darlin', an' she kiss you all ober your tiny
face, an' de tears an' sobs come fast while she say, 'Poor little baby; no
fader no mudder to lub her! nobody but you, mammy; take her an' bring her
up to lub de dear Lord Jesus.'"
Silent tears rolled down Elsie's cheeks as she looked and listened; but
her father drew her to his breast and kissed them away, his own eyes
brimming, his heart too full for speech.
Presently he led her back to the boudoir, and showed her the portraits of
her maternal grandparents, and one of her mother, taken at ten or twelve
years of age.
"What a lovely little girl she was," murmured Elsie, gazing lovingly upon
it.
"Very much like what her daughter was at the same age," he answered. "But
come, this, too, will interest you." And lifting the lid of a dainty
work-basket, he pointed to a bit of embroidery, in which the needle was
still sticking, as though it had been laid down by the deft fingers but a
few moments ago.
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