buried out of sight for evermore."

So said she; and Olive did not contradict her at the time. But she
thought that if there was any strength in faithful affection and earnest
prayers, the peace of a useful life, spent, not in barren solitude, but
in the fruitful garden of God's world, should be Christal's portion yet.

One only doubt troubled her. After considering for a long time she
ventured to say:

"I have told you now nearly all that has happened among us this year.
You have spoken of all your friends, save one." She hesitated, and at
last uttered the name of Lyle.

"Hush!" said Christal. But her cheek's paleness changed not; her heavy
eye neither kindled nor drooped. "Hush! I do not wish to hear that name.
It has passed out of my world for ever--blotted out by the horrors that
followed."

"Then you have forgotten"----

"Forgotten all. It was but a dream of my old vain life--it troubles me
no more."

"Thank God!" murmured Olive, though in her heart she marvelled to think
how many false reflections there were of the one true love--the only
love that can endure--such as had been hers.

She bade an affectionate farewell to her sister, who went with her to
the outer court of the convent. Christal did not ask her to come again,
but she kissed her when they parted, and once looked back ere she again
passed into the quiet silent home which she had chosen as her spirit's
grave.

Olive walked on quickly, for the afternoon was closing.

Very soon she heard overtaking her a footstep, whose sound quickened
her pulse even now. "How good and thoughtful of him, my dear Harold--my
husband!"

_My husband!_ Never did she say or think the words but her heart swelled
with inexpressible emotion, remembering the old time, the long silent
struggle, the wasting pain. Yet she would have borne it all a thousand
times--ay, even had the end come never in her life on earth,--rather
than not have known the sweetness of loving--the glory of loving one
like him.

Harold met her with a smile. "I have been waiting long--I could not let
my little Olive walk home alone."

She, who had walked through the world alone for so many weary years! But
she would never do so any more. She clung to her husband's arm, clasping
over it both her little hands in a sweet caressing way: and so they went
on together.

Olive told him all the good news she had to tell, and he rejoiced with
her for Christal's sake. He agreed that there was hope and co