: a mother and a sister wept with the happy one.

"O that I might live!" besought Eva, in the depths of her heart. As a
glorified one she stood before them. Her joy beamed through tears.

The next morning she felt herself singularly unwell. Her feet trembled;
her cheeks were like marble. She seated herself in the warm sunshine
which came in through the window. Outside stood the trees with large,
half-bursting buds. A few mild nights would make the wood green. But
summer was already in Eva's heart; there was life's joy and gladness.
Her large, thoughtful eyes raised themselves thankfully to heaven.

"Let me not die yet, good God!" prayed she; and her lips moved to a low
melody, soft as if breezes passed over the outstretched chords:--

"The sunshine warm, the odorous flowers,
Of these do not bereave me!
I breathe with joy the morning hours,
Let not the grave receive me!
There can no pleasant sunbeams fall,
No human voice come near me;
There should I miss the flow'rets small,
There have no friends to cheer me.

Now, how to value life I know--
I hold it as a treasure;
There is no love i' th' grave below,
No music, warmth, or pleasure.
On it the heavy earth is flung,
The coffin-lid shuts tightly!
My blood is warm, my soul is young!
Life smiles--life shines so brightly!"

She folded her hands: all became like flowers and gold before her eyes.
Afar off was the sound of music: she reeled and sank down upon the sofa
which was near her. Life flowed forth from her heart, but the sensation
was one of bliss; a repose, as when the weary bow down their heads for
sleep.

"Here is a letter!" cried Louise, full of joy, and found her white and
cold. Terrified, she called for help, and bent over her.

Eva was dead.

CHAPTER XLV

"Knowest thou the mountain and its cloudy paths? where the
mule is seeking its misty way."--GOETHE.

The letter was from Wilhelm; every line breathed life's joy and
gladness.

"MIA CARA SORELLA!

"Does it not sound beautifully? It is Italian! Now then, I am in that
so-often-sung-of Paradise, but of the so much-talked-about blue air,
I have as yet seen nothing of consequence. Here it is gray, gray as in
Denmark. To be sure Otto says that it is beautiful, that we have the
heaven of home above u