Molly E. Jamieson, Ruby: A Story of the Australian Bush
“ It is her first remembered tasting of that most sorrowful of all words, “Good-bye,” a good-bye none the less bitter that the “good morning” came to her but in yesterday’s sunshine. It is not always those whom we have known the longest whom we love the best.Even the thought of the promised new doll fails to comfort the little girl in this her first keenest sorrow of parting. For long she stands at the gate, gazing out into the sunlight, which beats down hotly upon her uncovered head.“It’s only till next Christmas anyway,” Ruby murmurs with a shadowy attempt at a smile. ”
