ering muscles and nerves. He had asked her to meet him with a
smile. How could she? He could not have understood what it meant when
he made the request. There never would be any way to make him realize;
indeed, why should he? The smile must be ready. He had loved his mother
deeply, and yet he had said he did not grieve to lay her to rest. Earth
had not been kind. Then why should she sorrow for her mother? Again life
had been not only unkind, but bitterly cruel.

Belshazzar arose and watched down the drive. The Girl looked also.
Through the gate and up the levee came a strange procession. First
walked the Harvester alone, with bared head, and he carried an arm load
of white lilies. A carriage containing a man and several women followed.
Then came a white hearse with snowy plumes, and behind that another
carriage filled with people, and Betsy followed drawing men in the
spring wagon. The Girl arose and as she stepped to the drive she swayed
uncertainly an instant.

"Gracious Heaven!" she gasped. "He is bringing her in white, and with
flowers and song!"

Then she lifted her head, and with a smile on her lips she went to meet
him. As she reached his side, he tenderly put an arm around her, and
came on steadily.

"Courage Girl!" he whispered. "Be as brave as she was!"

Around the driveway and up the hill he half carried her, to a seat he
had placed under the oak. Before her lay the white-lined grave, and the
Harvester arranged his lilies around it. The teams stopped at the barn
and men came up the hill bearing a white burden. Behind them followed
the minister who yesterday had performed their marriage ceremony, and
after him a choir of trained singers softly chanting:

"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord,
For they shall cease from their labours."

"But David," panted the Girl, "It was mean and poor. That is not she!"

"Sush!" said the Harvester. "It is your mother. The location was high
and dry, and it has been only a short time. We wrapped her in white
silk, laid her on a soft cushion and pillow, and housed her securely.
She can sleep well now, Ruth. Listen!"

Covered with white lilies, slowly the casket sank into earth. At its
head stood the minister and as it began to disappear, the white doves,
frightened by the strange conveyances at the stable, came circling
above. The minister looked up. He lifted a clear tenor, and softly and
purely he sang, while at a wave of his hand the choir joined him