“On the last night, in the evening, she kissed me, and said: ‘If my baby should die too, Peggotty, please let them lay him in my arms, and bury us together.’ (It was done; for the poor lamb lived but a day beyond her.) ‘Let my dearest boy go with us to our resting-place,’ she said, ‘and tell him that his mother, when she lay here, blessed him not once, but a thousand times.’ ”

Another silence followed this, and another gentle beating on my hand.

“It was pretty far in the night,” said Peggotty, “when she asked me for some drink; and when she had taken it, gave me such a patient smile, the dear!⁠—so beautiful!