Then her eyes turn toward a portrait settling into shadow, but lit up with one bright beam--and the dear mother's eyes shine on her with a tender light, and bless her.

And she clasps her hands, and her lips murmur something, and her eyes turn to the western sky again.
And evening slowly goes away, leaving the beautiful pure face with evident regret, but lighting up the kind blue eyes, and golden hair, and delicate cheek, with a last vagrant gleam.
So the dim cheerful night came down--the day was dead..