THE TWILIGHT GUESTS
find fault, but he dimly felt that to be left alone was hard. His memory grew suddenly untrustworthy; had they come or not? It was all so plain to him now. He was not with Rachel, he was neither in the church nor in the garden nor in the orchard. He was an old man, strangely weak and confused, left alone.
"Ah, Rachel," he murmured, "only come again, while I go! Come to take me—not that it will be long to wait before I see you, dear! We have been so happy, you and I! But it was so cold"
And then while he shivered helplessly and half afraid, there came the scent of spring lilac-bushes, and by his bed stood the bright-eyed child.
"Come! come and sit by me!" cried the old man. But the boy only smiled. "Take my hands—they are so cold!" he begged. Still the boy smiled. And as the old man looked, the child's eyes filled him with half hope, half fear. "Are you—are you" he tried to speak, but no sound came from his lips.
"If I come and touch you," said the boy, "it will be the end. Shall I come?" The old man's face lighted softly.
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