g duty. Besides, an active patience is a heavenly
power. Mary could not only walk along a pavement dry and lifeless as
the Sahara, enjoying the summer that brooded all about and beyond the
city, but she bore the re-freshment of blowing winds and running waters
into Letty's hot room, with the clanging street in front, and the
little yard behind, where, from a cord stretched across between the
walls, hung a few pieces of ill-washed linen, motionless in the glare,
two plump sparrows picking up crumbs in their shadow--into this live
death Mary would carry a tone of breeze, and sailing cloud, and swaying
tree-top. In her the life was so concentrated and active that she was
capable of communicating life--the highest of human endowments.

One evening, as Letty was telling her how the dressmaker up stairs had
been for some time unwell, and Mary was feeling reproachful that she
had not told her before, that she might have seen what she could do for
her, they became aware, it seemed gradually, of one softest, sweetest,
faintest music-tone coming from somewhere--but not seeming sufficiently
of this world to disclose whence. Mary went to the window: there was
nothing capable of music within sight. It came again; and
intermittingly came and came. For some time they would hear nothing at
all, and then again the most delicate of tones would creep into their
ears, bringing with it more, it seemed to Mary in the surprise of its
sweetness, than she could have believed single tone capable of
carrying. Once or twice a few consecutive sounds made a division
strangely sweet; and then again, for a time, nothing would reach them
but a note here and a note there of what she was fain to imagine a
wonderful melody. The visitation lasted for about an hour, then ceased.
Letty went to bed, and all night long dreamed she heard the angels
calling her. She woke weeping that her time was come so early, while as
yet she had tasted so little of the pleasure of life. But the truth
was, she had as yet, poor child, got so little of the _good_ of life,
that it was not at all time for her to go.

When her hour drew near, Tom condescended--unwillingly, I am sorry to
say, for he did not take the trouble to understand her feelings--to
leave word where he might be found if he should be wanted. Even this
assuagement of her fears Letty had to plead for; Mary's being so much
with her was to him reason, and he made it excuse, for absence; he had
begun to dread Mary.