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.

...