Tip came out of the bedroom, and softly approached the coffin; his hair,
too, was partly combed, and some attempt had been made to put his ragged
clothes in order. His heart swelled, and the tears gathered in his eyes,
as they rested on the baby.
Tip loved his little brother, and though he had not had much to do with
him, yet he had this much to comfort him,--Johnny had received only
kindness and good-natured words from him, which was more than Kitty could
say. As she stood there in the door, it seemed to her that every time she
had ever said cross, naughty words to the poor baby, or turned away from
his pitiful cry for comfort, or shook his little helpless self, came back
to her now,--stood all around his coffin, and looked straight at her.
Poor Kitty thought if he could _only_ come back to them for a little
while, she would hold him in her arms all night, without a murmur.
People began to come in now from the lowly houses about them, and fill
the empty chairs. Mrs. Lewis came out from the bedroom, and sat down
beside the arm-chair, thankful that her tear-stained face and swollen
eyes were hidden, by the thick black veil which some thoughtful neighbour
had sent for her use.
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