CHAPTER XXIII

gladyou’rehere.TellFathergood-byeforme.He’salwaysbeenasgoodtomeasheknewhow—andBarney.Somehow,IthinkthatBarney——” Butaspasmofcoughinginterruptedandexhaustedher.Shefellasleepwhenitwasover,stillholdingtoValancy’shand.Valancysatthereinthesilence.Shewasnotfrightened—orevensorry.AtsunriseCissydied.SheopenedhereyesandlookedpastValancyatsomething—somethingthatmadehersmilesuddenlyandhappily.And,smiling,shedied. ValancycrossedCissy’shandsonherbreastandwenttotheopenwindow.Intheeasternsky,amidthefiresofsunrise,anoldmoonwashanging—asslenderandlovelyasanewmoon.Valancyhadneverseenanold,oldmoonbefore.Shewatcheditpaleandfadeuntilitpaledandfadedoutofsightinthelivingroseofday.Alittlepoolinthebarrensshoneinthesunriselikeagreatgoldenlily. ButtheworldsuddenlyseemedacolderplacetoValancy.Againnobodyneededher.ShewasnotintheleastsorryCeciliawasdead.Shewasonlysorryforallhersufferinginlife.Butnobodycouldeverhurtheragain.Valancyhadalwaysthoughtdeathdreadful.ButCissyhaddiedsoquietly—sopleasantly.Andattheverylast—something—hadmadeuptoherforeverything.Shewaslyingtherenow,inherwhitesleep,lookinglikeachild.Beautiful!Allthelinesofshameandpaingone. RoaringAbeldrovein,justifyinghisname.Valancywentdownandtoldhim.Theshocksoberedhimatonce.Heslumpeddownontheseatofhisbuggy,hisgreatheadhanging. “Cissydead—Cissydead,”hesaidvacantly.“Ididn’tthinkitwould‘a’comesosoon.Dead.Sheusedtorundownthelanetomeetmewithalittlewhiterosestuckinherhair.Cissyusedtobeaprettylittlegirl.Andagoodlittlegirl.” “Shehasalwaysbeenagoodlittlegirl,”saidValancy.