The poor little one had ceased to moan; she turned her head slightly
and stared with wide eyes at those who stood around her bed; her
breath came fainter, fainter, until it stopped altogether. She was
dead. The guardian angel uttered a deep sigh, unfolded his wings, and
flew away.
The poor mother could not believe in the reality of so much sorrow;
still Celinina's exquisite face was growing diaphanous and yellow,
like wax; her limbs were cold; and her body finally became rigid
and hard like that of a doll. Then the mother was led away from
the alcove, while the father, the nearest relatives, two or three
friends, and the servants performed the last duties toward the dead
child.
They dressed her in a beautiful gown of lawn that was as white and
as sheer as a cloud, and covered with frills and laces that looked
like foam. They put on her shoes, which were white too, and whose
soles showed that they had taken but few steps. They braided her
lovely dark chestnut hair, and arranged it gracefully about her
head, intertwining it with blue ribbons. They tried to find fresh
flowers, but the season was too far advanced, and there were none
to be had; so they made her a wreath of artificial ones, selecting
only those which were beautiful and which might have been mistaken
for real blossoms just from the garden. Then a very repulsive man
brought a box, just a trifle larger than the case of a violin, lined
with blue silk and elaborately adorned with white satin and silver
braid. Celinina was laid in it: an exquisite soft pillow was placed
under her head, so that her position might not seem strained; and
when she had been carefully and tenderly fixed in her funereal couch,
they crossed her little hands, tied them together with a ribbon, and
slipped a bunch of white roses between them,--roses so artistically
fashioned that they seemed to be the very children of Spring.
The women threw gorgeous draperies over a table, adorned it like
an altar, and laid the coffin upon it. They arranged other altars,
too, after the manner of church canopies, with fine white curtains,
gracefully caught back on either side. They brought a great quantity
of saints and images from other rooms, which they disposed with
great art in symmetrical groups, forming a sort of funereal court
around the departed angel. They also brought in, without losing a
moment, the great candelabrum from the parlor, and lighted several
dozen tapers, which shed their mournful glow upon Celinina. Then they
kissed the child's frozen cheek again and again, and their pious task
was done.