The bird
fluttered, cooing, into the room, perched upon the head of the couch,
and began dressing its feathers there. The women had caught the
infection of the old man's enthralling suspense; and moved not to bid
the child retire, or to take away the dove from its place--they watched
like him. But the soft, lulling notes of the bird were powerless over
the girl's ear, as the light sunbeam over her face--still she never
woke.
The child entered, and pausing in her song, climbed on to the side of
the couch. She held out one little hand for the dove to perch upon,
placed the other lightly on Antonina's shoulder, and pressed her fresh,
rosy lips to girl's faded cheek. 'I and my bird have come to make
Antonina well this morning,' she said gravely.
The still, heavily-closed eyelids moved!--they quivered, opened, closed,
then opened again. The eyes had a faint, dreaming, unconscious look;
but Antonina lived! Antonina was awakened at last to another day on
earth!
Her father's rigid, straining gaze still remained fixed upon her as at
first, but on his countenance there was a blank, an absence of all
appearance of sensation and life.
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