f
this makes us sorry here, how can they escape the sorrow of it even if
they saw us?--for we must be parted. We cannot go back to live with
them, or why should we have died? And then we must all live our
lives--they in their way, we in ours. We must not weigh them down, but
only help them when it is seen that there is need for it. All this we
shall know better by and by."

"You make it so clear, and your face is so bright," said our little
Pilgrim gratefully. "You must have known a great deal, and understood
even when you were in the world."

"I was as foolish as I could be," said the other, with her laugh that
was as sweet as music; "yet thought I knew, and they thought I knew; but
all that does not matter now."

"I think it matters, for look how much you have shown me; but tell me
one thing more--how was it said to you that you must go and tell him?
Was it some one who spoke--was it--"

Her face grew so bright that all the past brightness was as a dull sky
to this. It gave out such a light of happiness that the little Pilgrim
was dazzled.

"I was wandering about," she said, "to see this new place. My mother had
come back between two errands she had, and had come to see me and tell
me everything; and I was straying about wondering what I was to do, when
suddenly I saw some one coming along, as it might be now--"

She paused and looked up, and the little Pilgrim looked up too with her
heart beating, but there was no one. Then she gave a little sigh, and
turned and listened again.

"I had not been looking for Him, or thinking. You know my mind is too
light. I am pleased with whatever is before me; and I was so curious,
for my mother had told me many things: when suddenly I caught sight of
Him passing by. He was going on, and when I saw this a panic seized me,
lest He should pass and say nothing. I do not know what I did. I flung
myself upon His robe, and got hold of it, or at least I think so. I was
in such an agony lest He should pass and never notice me. But that was
my folly. He pass! As if that could be!"

"And what did He say to you?" cried the little Pilgrim, her heart almost
aching it beat so high with sympathy and expectation.

The lady looked at her for a little without saying anything.

"I cannot tell you," she said, "any more than I can tell if this is
heaven. It is a mystery. When you see Him you will know. It will be all
you have ever hoped for and more besides, for He understands everything.
H