LONGFELLOW.

As Fern finished her little speech, Crystal hid her face in her hands,
but there was no answer--only the sound of a deep-drawn sob was
distinctly audible. A few minutes afterward she raised it, and in the
moonlight Fern could see it was streaming with tears.

"Do not say any more," she implored; "do you think my own heart does
not tell me all that, but I will not go back yet; the flaming sword of
conscience still bars my way to my Paradise. Fern, do you know why I
have told you my story? It is because I am going away, and I want you
to promise me something, and there is no one else I can ask; no, not
your mother," as Fern looked surprised at this, "she has enough to
trouble her."

"What is it?" asked Fern, rather timidly.

"I am going away," returned Crystal, "and one never knows what may
happen. I am young, but life is uncertain. If I never come back, if
anything befalls me, will you with your own hands give this to Raby,"
and as she spoke, she drew from her bosom a thick white envelope
sealed and directed, and placed it in Fern's lap. As it lay there Fern
could read the inscription: "To be given to the Rev. Raby Ferrers,
after my death."

"Oh, Crystal," she exclaimed, with a shiver, "what could happen to
you. You are young--not one-and-twenty yet--and your health is good,
and--" but Crystal interrupted her with a strange smile.

"Yes, it is true; but the young and the strong have to die sometimes;
when the call comes we must go. Do not look so frightened, Fern, I
will not die if I can help it; but if it should be so, will you with
your own hands give that to Raby; it will tell him what I have
suffered, and--and it will comfort him a little."

"Yes, dear, I will do it;" and Fern leaned forward and kissed her
softly. The moon was shining brightly now, and in the clear white
light Fern noticed for the first time how thin and pale Crystal
looked; how her cheek, and even her slight supple figure, had lost
their roundness. There were deep hollows in the temples, dark lines
under the dark eyes, in spite of her beauty she was fearfully wan. The
grief that preyed upon her would soon ravage her good looks. For the
first time Fern felt a vague fear oppressing her, but she had no
opportunity to say more, for at that moment Crystal rose quickly from
her seat.

"You have promised," she said, gratefully; "thank you for that. It is
a great trust, Fern, but I know I can rely