did you know that he loved me, and asked me to be his wife? This
is why I am thanking God for taking him to heaven."

Lizzy's face paled. Astonishment, incredulity, anger, grief, all blended
in the sudden look she turned upon Mercy. "I thought so! I thought so! But
I never believed you knew it. And you did not love him! Mercy, I will
never forgive you!"

"He forgave me," said Mercy, gently; "and so you might. But I shall never
forgive myself!"

"Mercy Philbrick!" exclaimed Lizzy, "how could you help loving that man?"
And, in her excitement, Lizzy stretched out her right hand towards the
rigid, motionless figure under the white pall. "He was the most glorious
man God ever made."

The two women stood side by side, looking into the face of the dead. It
was a strange place for these words to be spoken. It was as solemn as
eternity.

"I did not help loving him," said Mercy, in a lower tone, her white face
growing whiter as she spoke. "But"--she paused. No words came to her lips,
for the bitter consciousness which filled her heart.

Lizzy's voice sank to a husky whisper.

"But what?" she said. "O Mercy, Mercy! is it Stephen White you love?" And
Lizzy's face, even in that solemn hour, took a look of scorn. "Are you
going to marry Stephen White?" she continued.

"Never, Lizzy,--never!" said Mercy, in a tone as concentrated as if a
lifetime ended there; and, stooping low, she kissed the rigid hands which
lay folded on the heart of the man she ought to have loved, but had not.
Then, turning away, she took Lizzy's hands in hers, and kissing, her
forehead said earnestly,--

"We will never speak again of this, Lizzy, remember." Lizzy was overawed
by her tone, and made no reply.

Parson Dorrance's funeral was a scene which will never be forgotten by
those who saw it. It was on one of the fiercest days which the fierce New
England March can show. A storm of rain and sleet, with occasional
softened intervals of snow, raged all day. The roads were gullies of
swift-running water and icy sloughs; the cold was severe; and the cutting
wind at times drove the sleet and rain in slanting scourges, before which
scarce man or beast could stand. The funeral was held in the village
church, which was larger than the college chapel. Long before the hour at
which the services were to begin, every pew was filled, and the aisles
were crowded with those who could not find seats. From every parish within
twenty miles the mourners had come. T