him. It is a land,
as Mrs. Barbauld says, where the roses are without thorns, where the
flowers are not mixed with brambles--"

"I have seen the flowers," interrupted William, rising in his
earnestness. "They are ten times brighter than our flowers here."

"Seen the flowers! The flowers we shall see in Heaven?" she echoed.

"I have seen a picture of them. We went to Lynneborough to see Martin's
picture of the Last Judgment--I don't mean Dr. Martin," said William
interrupting himself.

"I know."

"There were three pictures. One was called the 'Plains of Heaven,' and I
liked that best; and so we all did. Oh, you should have seen it! Did you
ever see them, Madame Vine?"

"No. I have heard of them."

"There was a river, you know, and boats, beautiful gondolas they looked,
taking the redeemed to the shores of Heaven. They were shadowy figures
in white robes, myriads of them, for they reached all up in the air to
the holy city; it seemed to be in the clouds coming down from God. The
flowers grew on the banks of the river, pink, and blue, and violet, all
colors they were, but so bright and beautiful; brighter than our flowers
are."

"Who took you to see the pictures?"

"Papa. He took me and Lucy; and Mrs. Hare went with us, and Barbara--she
was not our mamma then. But, madame"--dropping his voice--"what stupid
thing do you think Lucy asked papa?"

"What did she ask him?"

"She asked whether mamma was amongst that crowd in the white robes;
whether she was gone up to Heaven? Our mamma that was, you know, and
lots of people could hear what she said."

Lady Isabel dropped her face upon her hands.

"What did your papa answer?" she breathed.

"I don't know. Nothing, I think; he was talking to Barbara. But it was
very stupid of Lucy, because Wilson has told her over and over again
that she must never talk of Lady Isabel to papa. Miss Manning told her
so too. When we got home, and Wilson heard of it, she said Lucy deserved
a good shaking."

"Why must not Lady Isabel be talked of to him?"

A moment after the question had left her lips, she wondered what
possessed her to give utterance to it.

"I'll tell you," said William in a whisper. "She ran away from papa.
Lucy talks nonsense about her having been kidnapped, but she knows
nothing. I do, though they don't think it, perhaps."

"She may be among the redeemed, some time, William, and you with her."

He fell back on the sofa-pillow with a weary sigh, and lay in