led paper was reopened; it contained a rich bequest to the
young woman, and with it was a small piece of paper, containing _her_
request to be buried beyond us, whence she had so often contemplated
the scene around us. The field was her own property, by the will of
the young man. She relinquished all else of his gift. "We buried her
_there_. I say _we_--for though my position was far below hers, yet
none felt more deeply her loss than those who looked up to admire her.
The little paling that surrounds the eminence was erected to keep away
the foot of the thoughtless. Shall we go to see the grave?"

I followed the man into the enclosure. The sods which covered the
grave of Mary had not yet united; and one or two seemed to be worn, as
if they had been treated with some rudeness. I drew the attention of
my guide to the abrasion.

"Ah, yes! that is poor Lara's doings," said he. "Poor dog! I looked
around for him at the funeral, expecting to see him at the grave, but
was disappointed. Every evening since the funeral, just before the sun
goes down, and often in the morning--the hours in which Miss Mary was
wont to come hither to enjoy the scenery--poor Lara has been seen
stretched out upon the grave, uttering his grief in a low wail. I
scarcely believe that he will recover from the loss he has sustained;
and others might be equally unconsolable, if they did not feel that it
is better with Mary now than when she lived."

When I had looked downward to the grave for a time, and almost into
it, that I might the better contemplate the character and end of her
who rested there, my companion drew my attention to the beauty of what
was around us.

"Miss Mary loved to stand here," said he, "and enjoy the rich sunset.
Mark, now, how richly its beams are thrown from the windows of yonder
Gothic house beyond the turnpike, and on the new dwelling a little
this side. A mellowness is in that light, to soothe where it falls;
and the whispering of the southern wind that we now hear, is like the
cries of spirits communing with their good sister below us."

"You seem now to enjoy the scenery, my friend," said I, "as much as
almost any other person."

"Sir, I have felt, of late, a growing fondness for this place and this
scene; and last Sunday, when returning from the afternoon service, I
stood here almost wrapt in the pleasure which the place afforded to
the departed one, and I have since come to believe that there is
something more than