ll for me when the time comes. I have
always longed to be laid away in our own God's-acre, among the Sisters
and Brothers, and enter with them into the joy of our Lord."

He now had also the happiness of having Carmen with him for several
days at a time. The house seemed illuminated by her presence, her room
was close to his, and there she had plants which he took care of for
her. There was also a snug little corner where they passed many happy
hours together. But with the knowledge of the fearful secret which
overshadowed her father's life a deeper gravity had come to her, which
subdued her otherwise exuberant and joyous temperament; and Alexander
often asked if it was the love she felt for him which had thus checked
her former cheerfulness. And this shadow did not pass away when,
shortly after Christmas, her wedding was celebrated, and Mauer informed
her that he had divided the fortune left him by Inez from his own
property, in order to make it over to her daughter, to whom it by right
belonged. So the young couple remained at Wollmershain, after
Alexander had sold his commission and left the army; and Mauer was
happy in the assurance that his daughter would always be near him.

CHAPTER XI.

On a bleak November day, when all nature wore its most dreary aspect,
the carriage of Herr von Trautenau, now well known in the village, drew
up before Brother Mauer's door. The horses had scarcely stopped, when
the door opened and Alexander sprang out, followed by Carmen, whose
face bore traces of recent tears.

"Be brave, dear heart!" he said.

"I have you and our darling boy left," she answered with emotion; and
turning back to the carriage, took a little child from the nurse's
arms. She kissed him fondly, and the little fellow clapped his hands
and crowed merrily at his mother as she held him in her arms. Then
from beneath the flaxen ringlets which covered the infantile head a
pair of large black eyes looked around with wonder at the strange place
and the dark figure, with the white cap, that stood in the doorway.

Carmen was surprised to see Sister Agatha.

"Have I come too late?" she asked in a tone of anguish.

"No, dear Carmen, he still lives," said the faithful nurse, soothingly.
"But he is failing rapidly since the attack this morning. He has been
so weak of late that we have felt prepared for the end to come at any
time. He has been asking anxiously for you since consciousness has
returned, and