-out of nature. He was taken in to see her
once or twice a year, and he always had nightmare after it, being a
nervous child. Well, one day he was running through the Green Parlour
here, and looking back at the windows of the Black Rooms, as he never
could help doing; and he saw Rosalie, the coloured woman, come to the
window and throw it wide open, letting in the full light of day. Then
she went to the next, and so on; and the child knew what had happened
before she spoke. I remember her words:

"'She's gone, honey! Her sperit's gone. It went out'n dis window,
straight by whar you's standin', and into the cedar bush. De Lord hab
mercy!'

"And poor little John took to his heels, and ran, and never stopped
running till he was in his own bed upstairs.

"That is the story, Margaret; but I ought to add that the belt of hair
was laid in the grave with her, at her special request."

"What a sad, sad story! Poor soul! Poor, forlorn, tortured soul! How
glad she must have been to go! Aunt Faith--"

"Yes, dear Margaret!"

"Oh, nothing,--only--it seems dreadful sometimes, to feel that terrible
things may be coming, coming toward one, and that one never can look
forward, never know when they may come! I sometimes think, if I could
see a year ahead, or even a week,--but one never knows. I suppose it is
best, or it would not be!"

"Assuredly, dear child! When you think a little more, you will see the
wisdom and the mercy of it. How could we go steadfastly along our path
of every day, if some day we saw a pit at the farther end? Life would be
impossible, Margaret."

"Yes, I--I suppose so!" said Margaret thoughtfully.

"And all the time," Mrs. Cheriton went on, "all the time, during the
clear, calm days and years, my child, we are, or we ought to be, laying
by, as it were; storing up light and strength and happiness for the dark
days when we may so deeply need them. Think a moment! Think of all the
happy days and years with your father! They are blessed memories, are
they not, Margaret? every day is like a jewel that you take out and look
at, and then put back in its case; you never lose these precious things
that are all your own!"

"Oh, never! oh, how well you know, Aunt Faith! how you must have felt it
all!" The girl raised her head, and saw the face of the aged woman
transfigured with light and beauty. She also was looking back through
the years,--who could tell how long!

"But suppose,"--it was still she who spoke,--