noon
It was a fearful storm ; wind and sleet and rain and darkness had attended the coming of Annie 's little `` Sunday child '' into its human life . `` A boy -- and Miss Annie 's all right , '' old Cæsar said , with a voice almost as hoarse as the storm outside ; and he was gone before we could ask a question farther . In less than an hour I stood on the threshold of Annie 's room . But I did not see her until noon . Then , as I crept softly into the dimly-lighted chamber , the whole scene so recalled her illness of two years before that my heart stood still with sudden horror , in spite of all my joy . Now , as then , I knelt silently at her bedside , and saw the sweet face lying white and still on the pillow . She turned , and seeing me , smiled faintly , but did not speak .