oonlight, listening to the ring
doves cooing above them, from the columbary of the stucco capitals.
This spacious colonnade extended around the northern and eastern side
of the house, but the western end had formerly been enclosed as a
conservatory--which having been abolished, was finally succeeded by a
comparatively modern iron veranda, with steps leading down to the
terrace. In front of the building, between the elm avenue and the
flower-bordered terrace, stood a row of very old poplar trees, tall as
their forefathers in Lombardy, and to an iron staple driven into one of
these, a handsome black horse was now fastened.

Standing with one foot on the terrace step, close to the marble vases
where heliotropes swung their dainty lilac chalices against her
shoulder, and the scarlet geraniums stared unabashed, Beryl's gaze
wandered from the lovely park and ancient trees, to the unbroken facade
of the gray old house; and as, in painful contrast she recalled the
bare bleak garret room, where a beloved invalid held want and death at
bay, a sudden mist clouded her vision, and almost audibly she murmured:
"My poor mother! Now, I can realize the bitterness of your suffering;
now I understand the intensity of your yearning to come back; the
terrible home-sickness, which only Heaven can cure."

What is presentiment? The swaying of the veil of futurity, under the
straining hands of our guardian angels? Is it the faint shadow, the
solemn rustle of their hovering wings, as like mother birds they spread
protecting plumes between blind fledglings, and descending ruin? Will
theosophy ever explain and augment prescience?

"It may be--
The thoughts that visit us, we know not whence,
Sudden as inspiration, are the whispers
Of disembodied spirits, speaking to us
As friends, who wait outside a prison wall,
Through the barred windows speak to those within."

With difficulty Beryl resisted an inexplicable impulse to turn and
flee; but the drawn sword of duty pointed ahead.

Striking her hands together, as if thereby crushing her reluctance to
enter, she waited a moment, with closed eyes, while her lips moved in
silent prayer; then ascending the terrace, she crossed the stone
pavement, walked up the stops and slowly advanced to the threshold. The
dark mahogany door was so glossy, that she dimly saw her own image on
its polished panels, as she lifted and let fall the heavy silver