all. Two lines, however,
reached me distinctly, with such penetrating, tender sadness, that I
laid my head against the window-frame, feeling as if I could write no
more, and wait no longer, but must go straight to you at once."

Garth drew down the dear hand which had held the pen that night; turned
it over, and softly kissed the palm.

"What were they, Jane?" he said.

"'Lead us, O Christ, when all is gone,
Safe home at last.'"

"And oh, my darling, the pathos of those words, 'when all is gone'!
Whoever wrote that music, had been through suffering such as ours. Then
came a theme of such inspiring hopefulness and joy, that I arose, armed
with fresh courage; took up my pen, and went on with my letter. Again
two lines had reached me:"

"'Where Thou, Eternal Light of Light,
Art Lord of All.'"

"What is it, Garth? And whose? And where did you hear it? And will you
sing it to me now, darling? I have a sudden wish that you should sing
it, here and now; and I can't wait!"

Garth sat up, and laughed--a short happy laugh, in which all sorts of
emotions were mingled.

"Jane! I like to hear you say you can't wait. It isn't like you;
because you are so strong and patient. And yet it is so deliciously
like you, if you FEEL it, to SAY it. I found the words in the
Anthem-book at Worcester Cathedral, this time last year, at even-song.
I copied them into my pocket-book, during the reading of the first
lesson, I am ashamed to say; but it was all about what Balak said unto
Balaam, and Balaam said unto Balak,--so I hope I may be forgiven! They
seemed to me some of the most beautiful words I had ever read; and,
fortunately, I committed them to memory. Of course, I will sing them to
you, if you wish, here and now. But I am afraid the air will sound
rather poor without the accompaniment. However, not for worlds would I
move from here, at this moment."

So sitting up; in the moonlight, with his back to Jane, his face
uplifted, and his hands clasped around one knee, Garth sang. Much
practice had added greatly to the sweetness and flexibility of his
voice; and he rendered perfectly the exquisite melody to which the
words were set.

Jane listened with an overflowing heart.

"The radiant morn hath passed away,
And spent too soon her golden store;
The shadows of departing day
Creep on once more.
"Our life is but a fading dawn,
Its glorious noon, how quickly past!
Lead us, O Christ, wh