to the Lord of life
in silent, wordless, thoughtless, profoundly quiet aspiration. She did
not wish to move or speak, or form a sentence even in her mind. She
found her state a strange one, but she did not even wonder at it, so
deep was the calm that enveloped her spirit.

Not long had she knelt there in this rapt serenity, when she was
conscious that some one was rapping softly at the door. This did not
disturb her. She arose from her knees, still in deep peace, went to the
door, and said:

"Presently. I will open presently. Wait a moment."

Then she went back to the bed, turned down the sheet, and gazed upon the
beloved face. How placid it was, and how beautiful. Death had smoothed
every trace of age and care from that little fair old face. She lay as
if sleeping, and almost smiling in her sleep--

"As though by fitness she had won
The secret of some happy dream."

Cora stooped and kissed the placid brow, then covered the face, and went
to open the door.

The gray-haired old Jason was waiting outside.

"If you please, ma'am, it is the--"

"I know, I know," said Cora, quietly. "Show them in."

And she passed out and went to her own room.

Her front windows were closed; but through the slats of the shutters she
saw that it was still snowing fast.

"What a winding sheet this will make for her grave," she thought, as she
looked out upon the wintry scene.

There was no wind, the fine white snow fell softly and steadily, giving
only the dimmest view of the government house on the opposite side of
the square draped in mourning.

The funeral of Mrs. Rockharrt took place on the third day after her
death. The snow had ceased, and the winter sun was shining brightly from
a clear blue sky on a white world, whose trees wore pendent diamonds
instead of green leaves, and as every house in the city was hung in
black for the dead governor, the effect of all this glare and glitter
and gloom was very weird and strange, as the funeral cortege passed from
the Rockharrt home to the Church of the Lord's Peace.

After the rites were over, the family returned to their city home, but
only for the night; for preparation had been already completed for their
removal to Rockhold, there to pass the year of mourning.

Old Aaron Rockharrt never changed from his look of stony immobility. If
he mourned for his patient wife of more than half a century, no outward
sign betrayed his feelings. If his spirit suffered with suppress