we never knew just what she wanted. The dim, large eyes closed, and
then the lids lifted slowly a little; there was a sigh, and Elsket's
watching was over; the weary spirit was at peace.

"She is with God," he said, calmly.

I closed the white lids gently, and moved out. Later I offered to help
him, but he said "No," and I remained out of doors till the afternoon.

About sunset he appeared and went up toward the old church, and I went
into the house. I found that he had laid her out in the large room, and
she lay with her face slightly turned as if asleep. She was dressed like
a bride in the bridal dress she had sewn so long; her hair was unbound,
and lay about her, fine and silken, and she wore the old silver
ornaments she had showed me. No bride had ever a more faithful
attendant. He had put them all upon her.

After a time, as he did not come back, I went to look for him. As I
approached I heard a dull, thumping sound. When I reached the cleared
place I found him digging. He had chosen a spot just in front of the
quaint old door, with the rude, runic letters, which the earliest
sunbeams would touch. As I came up I saw he was digging her grave.
I offered to help, but he said "No." So I carried him some food and
placing it near him left him.

Late that evening he came down and asked me if I would sit up that
night. I told him, yes. He thanked me and went into the house. In
a little while he came out and silently went up the path toward the
mountain.

It was a strange night that I spent in that silent valley in that still
house, only I, and the dead girl lying there so white and peaceful. I
had strange thoughts, and the earth and things earthly disappeared for
me that night shut in by those mountain walls. I was in a world alone.
I was cut off from all but God and the dead. I have dear ones in heaven,
and I was nearer to them that night, amid the mountain-tops of Norway,
than I was to earthly friends. I think I was nearer to heaven that night
than I ever shall be again till I get there.

Day broke like a great pearl, but I did not heed it. It was all peace.

Suddenly there was a step outside, and Olaf, with his face drawn and
gray, and bowing under the weight of the burden upon his shoulder,
stepped wearily in at the door.

To do Elsket honor he had been over the mountain to get it. I helped
lift it down and place it, and then he waited for me to go. As I passed
out of the door I saw him bend over the quiet s