d."

"You must not speak so despondently. The bright springtide will soon
restore all your former health and vigour."

"No, Alfred, no; the only home I look for is one where my poor shattered
frame will indeed recover its vigour, but it will not be the vigour or
beauty of this world. Do you remember the lines Father Cuthbert taught
us the other night?

"'Oh, how glorious and resplendent,
Fragile body, shalt thou be,
When endued with so much beauty,
Full of health, and strong and free,
Full of vigour, full of pleasure.
That shall last eternally.'

"It will not be of earth, though, my brother."

Alfred was silent; his emotions threatened to overcome him. He could not
bear to think that he should lose Elfric, although the conviction was
gradually forcing itself upon them all.

"Alfred," continued the patient, "it is of no use deceiving ourselves. I
have often thought it hard to leave this beautiful world, for it is
beautiful after all, and to leave you who have almost given your life
for me, and dear mother, little Edgitha, and Father Cuthbert; but God's
Will must be done, and what He wills must be best for us. No; this
bright Easter tide is the last I shall see on earth; but did not Father
Cuthbert say that heaven is an eternal Easter?"

So the repentant prodigal spoke, according to the lessons the Church had
taught him. Superstitious in many points that Church of our forefathers
may have been, yet how much living faith had its home therein will never
be fully known till the judgment.

"And when I look at that castle," Elfric continued, "our own hall of
Aescendune, rising from its ashes, I picture to myself how you will
marry some day and be happy there; how our dear mother will see your
children growing up around her knee, and teach them as she taught you
and me; how, perhaps, you will name one after me, and there shall be
another Elfric, gay and happy as the old one, but, I hope, ten times as
good; and you will not let him go to court, I am sure, Alfred."

Alfred did not answer; he could not command his composure.

"And when you all come to the priory church on Sundays, and Father
Cuthbert, or whoever shall come after him, sings the mass, you will
remember me and breathe my name in your prayers when they say the
memento for the faithful dead; and again, there shall be little children
learning their paters and their sweet little prayers, as you and I
learned them at our mother's knee: and you will show them