It pressed close to her side, it looked up imploringly, it kissed her arm and her crape veil over and over again, and tried to attract her attention.

It was a little, lily-fair creature not more than five or six years old and perhaps too young to express what it wanted to say.

It could only cling to her and kiss her black dress, and seem to beg her to remember that it, at least, was a living thing.

But she was too absorbed in her anguish to know that it was in the world.

She neither looked at nor touched it, and at last it sat with its cheek against her sleeve, softly stroking her arm, and now and then kissing it longingly.