gher, toward
heaven. And very soon we shall see the glorious light shining upon the
jewelled walls of the heavenly city, the New Jerusalem. And as we draw
near we shall see the pearly gates unfold to admit us, and God's holy
angels coming to meet us, clad in their white robes. And we shall hear
the first sweet sounds of the celestial music. And as we enter in at
the gates we shall meet all those dear ones who have gone before us.
Dear grandpa, whom you never saw, my precious one, but about whom, you
know, I have told you so many pretty stories--he will be there to
welcome us; and--"

"Oh, that _will_ be nice!" exclaimed the child with kindling eyes. He
meditated for a moment, and then, looking up, he asked eagerly: "When
are we going, father?"

"Oh, very soon now, dear," answered Gaunt, "_very_ soon--perhaps in two
or three hours' time. We can wait patiently until then, can we not?"

"Yes," answered Percy in a perfectly contented tone of voice. And the
father was inwardly congratulating himself upon the ease with which his
difficult task had been accomplished--though he of course felt that it
would be absolutely necessary to keep the child in that frame of mind by
constant conversation until the arrival of the supreme moment--when the
little fellow looked up and with sudden anxiety asked:

"And will mother be there too?"

How little the poor child knew what poignant anguish he inflicted upon
his father by asking this innocent and perfectly natural question!
Gaunt would have given worlds, had he possessed them, for the priceless
privilege of saying farewell to his idolised wife; but he knew it could
not be--it was impossible. And the child had still to be thought of,
still to be cheered and encouraged and strengthened to meet death with a
smiling face--_nothing_ must be allowed to interfere with that; so,
choking back his anguish as best he could, the father answered:

"Well--no, dear boy; I scarcely think she will be there quite so early
as ourselves. But she will not be long in following us. When she finds
that we are gone she will be anxious to come, too; and she will not
delay for one unnecessary moment, you may depend upon it."

"Oh, father!" exclaimed the poor little fellow in sudden distress, "let
us not go without mother; it will be so lonely for her to be down here
all by herself. Let us wait for her and all go together; it will be
ever so much nicer. I don't want to go without her, father. I