“Oh! I know!” cried Jenny. “I understand him now!” Then, Lightwood yielded his place to her quick approach, and she said, bending over the bed, with that better look: “You mean my long bright slanting rows of children, who used to bring me ease and rest? You mean the children who used to take me up, and make me light?”

Eugene smiled, “Yes.”

“I have not seen them since I saw you. I never see them now, but I am hardly ever in pain now.”

“It was a pretty fancy,” said Eugene.

“But I have heard my birds sing,” cried the little creature, “and I have smelt my flowers. Yes, indeed I have! And both were most beautiful and most Divine!”

“Stay and help to nurse me,” said Eugene, quietly. “I should like you to have the fancy here, before I die.”