lunges me continually into the slough of distrust and
rebellious questioning. I find it so hard to stand still, and let God
do his will, and work in his own way."

"My dear Salome, patience is only practical faith, and the want of it
causes two-thirds of the world's woes. I often find it necessary to
humble my own pride, and tame my restless spirit by recurring to the
last words of Schiller, 'Calmer and calmer! many difficult things are
growing plain and clear to me. Let us be patient.' Child, sing me one
song more, and then come out and show me where you propose to place
those grape-arbors we spoke of yesterday. This is the last opportunity
I shall have to direct your workmen."

An hour later Salome fastened a sprig of Grand Duke jasmine in the
button-hole of his coat,--shook hands with him for the day, and though
she smiled in recognition of his final bow as he drove down the
avenue, her thoughts were busy with the dreaded separation that
awaited her on the morrow and, while her lips were mute, the cry of
her heart was,--

... "O Beloved, it is plain
I am not of thy worth, nor for thy place.
And yet because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace,
To live on still in love,--and yet in vain,--
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face."

Dr. Grey spent the remainder of the day in visiting his patients, and
as he rode from cottage to hovel, bidding adieu to those whose lives
had so often been committed to his professional guardianship, he was
received with tearful eyes, and trembling hands; and numerous
benedictions were invoked upon his head.

Silver threads were beginning to weave an aureola in his chestnut
hair, and the smooth white forehead showed incipient furrows, but the
deep blue eyes were as tranquil and trusting as of yore, and full of
tenderer light for the few he loved, for all in suffering and
bereavement.

With a sublime and increasing faith in the overruling wisdom and mercy
of God, he patiently and hopefully bore his loneliness and grievous
loss,--comforting himself with the assurance that, "the evening of
life brings with it its lamp;" and looking eagle-eyed across the
storm-drenched plain of the present to the gleaming jasper walls of
the Eternal Beyond.

... "My wine has run
Indeed out of my cup, and there is none
To gather up the bread of my repast
Scattered and trampled,--yet I find some good
In earth's green h