on my shoulder and wept. "Why," she
again asked, "do you tremble, Lionel, what shakes you thus?"

"Well may I be shaken," I replied, "happy as I am. Our child is dead, and
the present hour is dark and ominous. Well may I tremble! but, I am happy,
mine own Idris, most happy."

"I understand thee, my kind love," said Idris, "thus--pale as thou art
with sorrow at our loss; trembling and aghast, though wouldest assuage my
grief by thy dear assurances. I am not happy," (and the tears flashed and
fell from under her down-cast lids), "for we are inmates of a miserable
prison, and there is no joy for us; but the true love I bear you will
render this and every other loss endurable."

"We have been happy together, at least," I said; "no future misery can
deprive us of the past. We have been true to each other for years, ever
since my sweet princess-love came through the snow to the lowly cottage
of the poverty-striken heir of the ruined Verney. Even now, that eternity
is before us, we take hope only from the presence of each other. Idris,
do you think, that when we die, we shall be divided?"

"Die! when we die! what mean you? What secret lies hid from me in those
dreadful words?"

"Must we not all die, dearest?" I asked with a sad smile.

"Gracious God! are you ill, Lionel, that you speak of death? My only
friend, heart of my heart, speak!"

"I do not think," replied I, "that we have any of us long to live; and when
the curtain drops on this mortal scene, where, think you, we shall find
ourselves?" Idris was calmed by my unembarrassed tone and look; she
answered:--"You may easily believe that during this long progress of the
plague, I have thought much on death, and asked myself, now that all
mankind is dead to this life, to what other life they may have been borne.
Hour after hour, I have dwelt on these thoughts, and strove to form a
rational conclusion concerning the mystery of a future state. What a
scare-crow, indeed, would death be, if we were merely to cast aside the
shadow in which we now walk, and, stepping forth into the unclouded
sunshine of knowledge and love, revived with the same companions, the same
affections, and reached the fulfilment of our hopes, leaving our fears with
our earthly vesture in the grave. Alas! the same strong feeling which makes
me sure that I shall not wholly die, makes me refuse to believe that I
shall live wholly as I do now. Yet, Lionel, never, never, can I love any
but you; through et