n repay it?"

She did not reply, and he continued, "Give me a husband's right to
care for you, and I shall be repaid a thousand fold."

Whatever Mary's answer might have been, and indeed we are not sure
that she answered at all, George was satisfied; and when he told her
how dear she was to him, how long he had loved her, and asked if he
might not hope that he, too, had been remembered, the little golden
locket which she placed in his hand was a sufficient reply. Without
Ida's aid he had heard of the relationship existing between Mrs.
Campbell and Mary, but it made no difference with him. His mind had
long been made up, and in taking Mary for his wife, he felt that he
was receiving the best of Heaven's blessings.

Until the shadows of evening fell around them they sat there, talking
of the future, which George said should be all one bright dream of
happiness to the young girl at his side, who from the very fulness of
her joy wept as she thought how strange it was that she should be the
wife of George Moreland, whom many a dashing belle had tried in vain
to win. The next morning George went back to Boston, promising to
return in a week or two, when he should expect Mary to accompany him
to Glenwood, as he wished to see Rose once more before she died.

CHAPTER XXXII.

GOING HOME.

The windows of Rose Lincoln's chamber were open, and the balmy air of
May came in, kissing the white brow of the sick girl, and whispering
to her of swelling buds and fair young blossoms, which its breath had
wakened into life, and which she would never see.

"Has Henry come?" she asked of her father, and in the tones of her
voice there was an unusual gentleness, for just as she was dying Rose
was learning to live.

For a time she had seemed so indifferent and obstinate, that Mrs.
Howland had almost despaired. But night after night, when her daughter
thought she slept, she prayed for the young girl, that she might not
die until she had first learned the way of eternal life. And, as if in
answer to her prayers, Rose gradually began to listen, and as she
listened, she wept, wondering though why her grandmother thought her
so much more wicked than any one else. Again, in a sudden burst of
passion, she would send her from the room, saying, "she had heard
preaching enough, for she wasn't going to die,--she wouldn't die any
way."

But at last such feelings passed away, and as the sun of her short
life was setting, the sun of righte