ir inmost chords.

"Mr. Davis," said Clara, and her eyes dilated with a wondrous light
while her voice grew unnaturally strong, "I am to see your wife. Shall I
say you are looking forward to meeting her?"

"Just that, and it will not be long," and he bowed his head as he held
in both his own her white hand.

"Halbert and Mary, come and let me bless you. My brother and sister, you
are so dear to me. You, Halbert, have a wondrous touch; you stand before
the shrine of art, and ere many years a people's verdict shall more than
seal your heart's desire; a master artist you shall be, my friend."

"Oh, Clara, Clara!" said Hal--

"Yes," she continued, "Love's fawn has won the prize for you at home and
abroad; I leave to you a friend,--Louis will attend to it all,--and
among the little ones who come there will be some who have, like you,
talent; help them as you shall see fit."

He could only bow his head, while Mary, sobbing as if her heart would
break, said:

"Do not go; oh, do not leave us!"

Clara closed her eyes and sank back among her cushions almost
breathless. We took her hands, Louis and I, and I feared she would never
speak again. Tearful and motionless these beloved ones sat about her,
and at last, when the crimson and gold swept like a full tide of glory
the broad western expanse that lay before us, she raised herself, looked
into all our faces, held her lips for a last kiss from us of the
household, and said in tones as clear as silver bells:

"I am going now; he is coming. Aunt Hildy, you will come soon. Emily,
love my Louis. Louis, kiss me again; fold close the falling garment.
Baby, breathe on me once more--Louis Robert. Oh, this is beautiful!"

Her head dropped on Louis' shoulder. Slowly the eyelids covered the
beautiful eyes.

She was dead. Clara, the purest of all, dead and how beautiful the
transition! What a picture for the sunset to look upon, as with the full
tide of sympathy flooding our hearts, we stood around her where she lay!
John, in his strong dark beauty, with folded arms, and eyes like wells
of sorrow; Matthias and Aunt Peg, with tears running over their dusky
faces; good Mr. Davis, with his gray hairs bending over her as if to
hear her tell the message to his loved one; Aunt Hildy standing like one
who is only waiting for a little more to fill the cup, which is already
near her lips; my father and mother with their tender sympathies
expressed in every feature, with Jane and her husba