midnight
and the voice was very , very faint . He could not refuse , and bending low , he said , `` Matty , I will , I will . '' `` Bless you , my husband , bless you for that , '' was Matty 's dying words , for she never spoke again . It was morning then , -- early morning , and a long , dreary day had intervened , until at last it was midnight , and silence reigned throughout the house . Maude , Nellie , Janet , and John had wept themselves sick , while in little Louis ' bosom there was a sense of desolation which kept him wakeful , even after Maude had cried herself to sleep . Many a time that day had he stolen into the parlor , and climbing into a chair , as best he could , had laid his baby cheek against the cold , white face , and smoothing with his dimpled hand the shining hair , had whispered , `` Poor , sick mother , wo n't you speak to Louis any more ? '' He knew better than most children of his age what was meant by death , and as he lay awake , thinking how dreadful it was to have no mother , his thoughts turned toward his father , who had that day been too much absorbed in his own grief to notice him .