had better be done."

Lord Charlewood discerned the truth.

"Have patience with me," he said, "a little longer; the blow is so
sudden, so terrible, I cannot yet realize what the world is without
Madaline."

A few hours passed, and the self-control he had struggled for was his.
He sent for Dr. Letsom.

"I have been thinking over what is best," he said, "and have decided on
all my plans. Have you leisure to discuss them with me?"

The question seemed almost ironical to the doctor, who had so much more
time to spare than he cared to have. He sat down by Lord Charlewood's
side, and they held together the conversation that led to such strange
results.

"I should not like a cold, stone grave for my beautiful wife," said Lord
Charlewood. "She was so fair, so _spirituelle_, she loved all nature so
dearly; she loved the flowers, trees, and the free fresh air of heaven.
Let her be where she can have them all now."

The doctor looked up with mild reproach in his eyes.

"She has something far better than the flowers of this world," he said.
"If ever a dead face told of rest and peace, hers does; I have never
seen such a smile on any other."

"I should like to find her a grave where the sun shines and the dew
falls," observed Lord Charlewood--"where grass and flowers grow and
birds sing in the trees overhead. She would not seem so far away from me
then."

"You can find many such graves in the pretty church-yard here in
Castledene," said the doctor.

"In time to come," continued Lord Charlewood, "she shall have the
grandest marble monument that can be raised, but now a plain white cross
will be sufficient, with her name, Madaline Charlewood; and, doctor,
while I am away you will have the grave attended to--kept bright with
flowers--tended as for some one that you loved."

Then they went out together to the green church-yard at the foot of the
hill, so quiet, so peaceful, so calm, and serene, that death seemed
robbed of half its terrors; white daisies and golden buttercups studded
it, the dense foliage of tall lime-trees rippled above it. The graves
were covered with richly-hued autumn flowers; all was sweet, calm,
restful. There was none of earth's fever here. The tall gray spire of
the church rose toward, the clear blue sky.

Lord Charlewood stood looking around him in silence.

"I have seen such a scene in pictures," he said. "I have read of such in
poems, but it is the first I have really beheld. If my darling co