heard, and felt, was soothing to her
mind; never had she seen or tasted juicier peaches, richer bunches of
grapes, fresher almonds or more tempting cakes; on the shrubs in the
garden and on the grass-plots between the paths there was not a dead
leaf, not a dry stem, not the tiniest weed. The buds were swelling on
the tall trees, shrubs without end were covered with blossoms--white,
blue, yellow, and red--while, among the smooth, shining leaves of the
orange and lemon trees, gleamed the swelling fruit. On a round tank
close at hand some black swans were noiselessly tracing evanescent
circles and uttering their strange lament. The song of birds mingled
with the plash of fountains, and even the marble statues, for all that
they were dumb, seemed to be enjoying the sweet morning air and the stir
and voice of nature.

Yes, she could be happy here; as she peeled a peach and slowly
swallowed the soft fragrant mouthfuls, she laughed to remember the
hard ship's-biscuit, of the two previous days' fare. And it was Gorgo's
privilege to revel in these good things day after day, year after year.
It was like living in Eden, in the perpetual spring of man's first
blissful home on earth. There could be no suffering here; who could
cry here, who could be sorrowful, who could die?... Here a new train of
thought forced itself upon her. She was still so young, and yet she was
as familiar with the idea of death as she was with life; for whenever
she had happened to tell any minister of her creed that she was an
orphan and a slave, and deeply sad and sorrowful, the joys of eternity
in Paradise had always been described to her for her consolation, and it
was in hopes of Heaven that her visionary nature found such a modicum of
comfort as might suffice to keep the young artist-soul from despair. And
now it struck her that it must be hard, very hard to die, in the midst
of all this splendor. Living here must be a foretaste of the joys of
Paradise--and in the next world, among the angels of Heaven, in the
presence of the Saviour--would it not be a thousand times more beautiful
even than this? She shuddered, for, sojourning here, she was no longer
to be counted as one of the poor and humble sufferers to whom Christ had
promised the Kingdom of Heaven--here she was one of the rich, who had
nothing to hope for after death.

She pushed the peaches away with a feeling of oppression, and closed
her eyes that she might no longer see all these perishable