n Gabriels; while, close to the
mountain peaks and ridges, the stars came out. The rows and the contour of
the orange groves could no longer be distinguished the forms of the nearby
trees were lost--the rich, lustrous green of their foliage brushed out
with the dull black of the night; while the twinkling lights of the
distant towns and hamlets, in the valley below, shone as sparkling jewels
on the inky, velvet robe that, fold on fold, lay over the landscape.

When the two had smoked in silence, for some time, the artist said slowly,
"You knew my mother very well, did you not, Mr. Lagrange?"

"We were children together, Aaron." As he spoke, the man's deep voice was
gentle, as always, when the young man's mother was mentioned.

Again, for a little, neither spoke. As they sat looking away to the
mountains, each seemed occupied with his own thoughts. Yet each felt that
the other, to a degree, understood what he, himself, was thinking.

Once more, the artist broke the silence,--facing his mother's friend with
quiet resolution,--as though he felt himself forced to speak but knew not
exactly how to begin. "Did you know her well--after--after my father's
death--and while I was abroad?"

The other bowed his head--"Yes."

"Very well?"

"Very well."

As if at loss for words, Aaron King still hesitated. "Mr. Lagrange," he
said, at last, "there are some things about--about mother--that I would
like to tell you--that I think she would want me to tell you, under the
circumstances."

"Yes," said Conrad Lagrange, gently.

"Well,--to begin,--you know, perhaps, how much mother and I have always
been--" his fine voice broke and the older man bowed his head; but, with a
slight lift of his determined chin, the painter went on calmly--"to each
other. After father's death, until I was seventeen, we were never
separated. She was my only teacher. Then I went away to school, seeing her
only during my vacations, which we always spent, together in the country.
Three years ago, I went abroad to finish my study. I did not see her again
until--until I was called home."

"I know," came in low tones from the other.

"But, sir, while it seemed necessary that I should be away from
home,--that we should be separated,--all through this period, we exchanged
almost daily letters; planning for the future, and looking forward to the
time when we could, again, be together."

"I know, Aaron. It was very unusual--and very beautiful."

"When we we