Wearily Sue obeyed.
But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind
that had endured through the livelong night, there yet
stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the
last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem,
with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of
dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch
some twenty feet above the ground.
"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would
surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall
to-day, and I shall die at the same time."
"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to
the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself.
What would I do?"
But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all
the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious,
far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one
by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.
The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see
the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with
the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the
rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low
Dutch eaves.
When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that
the shade be raised.
The ivy leaf was still there.
Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue,
who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.
"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made
that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to
want to die. You may bring a me a l