h a document as this, made as if the
Almighty really had to do with things, and were surer than trustees
and cunning law-conditions.

"Two girls!" they said, "who will marry--the Lord knows whom--and
do, the Lord knows what, with it all!"

That was exactly what Titus Oldways believed. He believed the Lord
_did_ know. He had shown him part; enough to go by to the end of
_his_ beat; the rest was his. "Everything escheats to the King, at
last."

And so Desire Ledwith and Hazel Ripwinkley sat in the old house
together, and made their pure, young, generous plans; so they went
in and out, and did their work, blessedly; and Uncle Titus's
arm-chair stood there, where it always had, at the library table;
and the Book of the Gospels, with its silver cross, lay in its
silken cover where it always lay; and nothing had gone but the bent
old form from which the strength had risen and the real presence
loosened itself; and Uncle Titus's grand, beautiful life passed over
to them continually; for hands on earth, he had their hands; for
feet, their feet. There was no break, as Desire had said; it was the
wonderful "fellowship of the mystery" which God meant, in the
manifold wisdom that they know in heavenly places, when He ordained
the passing over. We call it death; we _make_ it death; a
separation. We leave off there. We gather up the tools that loved
ones drop, and use them to carve out, selfishly, our own pleasures;
we let their _life_ go, as if it were no matter to keep it up upon
the earth. We turn our backs, and go our ways, and leave saints'
hands outstretched invisibly in vain.

It was ever so bright and cheerful in this house into which
death--that was such a birth--had come. These children were
brimming over with happy thankfulness that Uncle Titus had loved and
trusted them so. They never solemnized their looks or lengthened
their accent when they spoke of him; he had come a great deal nearer
to them in departing than he had ever known how to come, or they to
approach him, before. Something young in his nature that had been
hidden by gray hairs and slowness of years, sprang to join itself to
their youth on which he had laid his bequest of the Lord's work.
They ran lightly up and down where he had walked with measured
gravity; they chatted and laughed, for they knew he was gladder than
either; they sat in Desire's large, bright chamber at their work, or
they went down to find out things in books in the library; and here,