don't forget to ensure my death by an inward pinch; be sure you let me die that night."
Jâmini wept, but Bhramar would take no more physic. As she did not she had no relief from her disease, but she became daily more cheerful. After so long Bhramar had begun to be pleasant again. It was her first smile after six years. Like the brightening of a lamp before it expires. As the days went by, the nearer death approached, the more calm, cheerful, and smiling was Bhramar. At length the terrible last day arrived. Bhramar saw from the restlessness of the family, and from Jâmini's tears, that it had come. The pain she suffered told the same tale. She said to Jâmini, "This is my last day." Receiving no reply, she went on, "Sister, on this, my last day, I have a request to make, be sure you carry it out." Jâmini kept weeping in silence. Bhramar repeated, "I have one request, do not weep to-day. Wait till I am gone, weep then, I shall not return to forbid you; but to-day I wish to say to you, unhindered, before I die the few words that I can speak."
Jâmini dried her eyes and sat near, but
