le your defiant soul,
and so spend your future, that when this brief earthly pilgrimage ends
you can pass joyfully to the city of Rest? Girded with this hope, I
can brave all trials,--can be content to look upon your face no more
in this world,--can patiently wait for a reunion in that Eternal Home
where they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and
the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in
marriage."

"Oh, Dr. Grey, if it were possible!"

She clasped her hands and bowed her chin upon them, awed by his tones,
and unable to met his grave, pleading eyes.

"Faith and prayer are the talismans that render all things possible to
an earnest Christian; and it has been truly said 'We mount to heaven
mostly on the ruins of our cherished schemes, finding our failures
were successes.' Recollect,--

'There is a pleasure which is born of pain:
The grave of all things hath its violet,'

and do not indulge a corroding bitterness that has almost destroyed
the nobler elements of your nature. I will exact no promise, but when
I am gone, do not forget the request that my soul makes of yours. May
God point out your work and help you to perform it faithfully. May His
hand guide and uphold, and His merciful arms enfold you, now and
forever, is and shall be my prayer."

For a moment his hand lingered as if in benediction upon the drooping
gray head, then he quietly turned and walked away, knowing full well
that he was bidding adieu to the most precious of all earthly
objects,--that he too was shattering a lovely "graven image," before
which his heart had fondly bowed.

As the sound of his firm step died away, the lonely woman lifted her
face and looked after the form, vanishing in the gloom of the
overarching trees. When he had disappeared, and she turned seaward,
where the moon, as if inviting her to heaven, had laid a broad shining
band of beaten silver from wave to sky,--the miserable wife raised her
hands appealingly, and made a new covenant with her pitying God.

... "Wherefore thy life
Shall purify itself, and heal itself,
In the long toil of love made meek by tears."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"Merton, you are not conscious of the extent of your infatuation, which
has already excited comment in our limited circle of acquaintances."

"Indeed! The members of 'our limited circle of acquaintances' are
heartily welcome to whatever edification or amusement they may be a