robes of happy spirits invisible to
human eyes. The leaves and grass just stirred in the breeze, making a
slight, musical murmur, and across them fell long shadows cast by the
westering sun. A sentiment so sweet and pleasurable as to be tinged with
pain, took possession of these young, susceptible souls, as the
influences of the time closed about them. In our happiest moments, our
moments of utmost exaltation, it is always thus:--when earth most nearly
approaches the beatitudes of heaven, and the spirit stretches forward
with a vain longing for the far off, which seems but a little way
beyond; the unattained and dim, which for a space come near.

"Darling!" said Surrey softly, "does it not seem easy now to die?"

"Yes, Willie," she whispered, "I feel as though it would be stepping
over a very little stream to some new and beautiful shore."

Doubtless, when a pure and great soul is close to eternity, ministering
angels draw nigh to one soon to be of their number, and cast something
of the peace and glory of their presence on the spirit yet held by its
cerements of clay.

At last the ride and the evening had an end. The country and its dear
delights were mere memories,--fresh, it is true, but memories still, and
no longer realities,--in the luxurious rooms of their hotel.

Evidently Surrey had something to say, which he hesitated and feared to
utter. Again and again, when Francesca was talking of his plans and
purposes, trusting and hoping that he might see no hard service, nor be
called upon for any exposing duty, "not yet awhile," she prayed, at
least,--again and again he made as if to speak, and then, ere she could
notice the movement, shook his head with a gesture of silence, or--she
seeing it, and asking what it was he had to say--found ready utterance
for some other thought, and whispered to himself, "not yet; not quite
yet. Let her rest in peace a little space longer."

They sat talking far into the night, this last night that they could
spend together in so long a time,--how long, God, with whom are hid the
secrets of the future, could alone tell. They talked of what had passed,
which was ended,--and of what was to come, which was not sure but full
of hope,--but of both with a feeling that quickened their heart-throbs,
and brought happy tears to their eyes.

Twice or thrice a sound from some far distance, undecided, yet full of a
solemn melody, came through the open window, borne to their ears on the
still