the same thing about the world to come. It had sounded
funny then--she remembered how she and Priscilla had laughed over it.
But it did not seem in the least humorous now, coming from Ruby's pale,
trembling lips. It was sad, tragic--and true! Heaven could not be what
Ruby had been used to. There had been nothing in her gay, frivolous
life, her shallow ideals and aspirations, to fit her for that great
change, or make the life to come seem to her anything but alien and
unreal and undesirable. Anne wondered helplessly what she could say
that would help her. Could she say anything? "I think, Ruby," she began
hesitatingly--for it was difficult for Anne to speak to any one of the
deepest thoughts of her heart, or the new ideas that had vaguely begun
to shape themselves in her mind, concerning the great mysteries of life
here and hereafter, superseding her old childish conceptions, and it
was hardest of all to speak of them to such as Ruby Gillis--"I think,
perhaps, we have very mistaken ideas about heaven--what it is and what
it holds for us. I don't think it can be so very different from life
here as most people seem to think. I believe we'll just go on living, a
good deal as we live here--and be OURSELVES just the same--only it will
be easier to be good and to--follow the highest. All the hindrances
and perplexities will be taken away, and we shall see clearly. Don't be
afraid, Ruby."

"I can't help it," said Ruby pitifully. "Even if what you say about
heaven is true--and you can't be sure--it may be only that imagination
of yours--it won't be JUST the same. It CAN'T be. I want to go on living
HERE. I'm so young, Anne. I haven't had my life. I've fought so hard to
live--and it isn't any use--I have to die--and leave EVERYTHING I care
for." Anne sat in a pain that was almost intolerable. She could not tell
comforting falsehoods; and all that Ruby said was so horribly true. She
WAS leaving everything she cared for. She had laid up her treasures
on earth only; she had lived solely for the little things of life--the
things that pass--forgetting the great things that go onward into
eternity, bridging the gulf between the two lives and making of death a
mere passing from one dwelling to the other--from twilight to unclouded
day. God would take care of her there--Anne believed--she would
learn--but now it was no wonder her soul clung, in blind helplessness,
to the only things she knew and loved.

Ruby raised herself on her arm an