The unclouded calm of this lethargy grew troubled presently when there fell upon her dulled ear the low tones of a remembered woman’s voice. Enough of consciousness flickered up to tell her whose it was. She strained her eyes in the gathering shadows to see Kate Minster, and began restlessly to roll her head upon the pillow. “Where--where--_her?_” she moaned, striving to stretch forth her hand. It was lifted and held softly in a tender grasp, and she felt as well a compassionate stroking touch laid upon her forehead. The gentle magnetism of these helped the dying girl to bring into momentary being the image of a countenance close above hers--a dark, beautiful face, all melting now with affection and grief. She smiled faintly into this face, and lay still again for a long time. The breathing grew terribly shorter and more labored, the light faded. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lawton Girl, by Harold Frederic