One by one they recalled the memories of that vanished summer . The past gave up its tears and its laughter . Heart and fancy alike went roaming through the ways of the long ago . Aunty Nan was perfectly happy . And then Joscelyn told her all the story of her struggles and triumphs since they had parted . When the moonlight began to creep in through the low window , Aunty Nan put out her hand and touched Joscelyn 's bowed head . `` Little Joscelyn , '' she whispered , `` if it ai n't asking too much , I want you to sing just one other piece . Do you remember when you were here how we sung hymns in the parlour every Sunday night , and my favourite always was ` The Sands of Time are Sinking ? ' I ai n't never forgot how you used to sing that , and I want to hear it just once again , dearie . Sing it for me , little Joscelyn . '' Joscelyn rose and went to the window . Lifting back the curtain , she stood in the splendour of the moonlight , and sang the grand old hymn . At first Aunty Nan beat time to it feebly on the counterpane ; but when Joscelyn came to the verse , `` With mercy and with judgment , '' she folded her hands over her breast and smiled . When the hymn ended , Joscelyn came over to the bed . `` I am afraid I must say good-bye now , Aunty Nan , '' she said . Then she saw that Aunty Nan had fallen asleep . She would not waken her , but she took from her breast the cluster of crimson roses she wore and slipped them gently between the toil-worn fingers . `` Good-bye , dear , sweet mother-heart , '' she murmured . Down-stairs she met Mrs. William splendid in rustling black silk , her broad , rubicund face smiling , overflowing with apologies and welcomes , which Joscelyn cut short coldly . `` Thank you , Mrs. Morrison , but I can not possibly stay longer .
No , thank you , I do n't care XXXXX any refreshments .
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