o him;
it was like some old picture. They passed him, group after group,
talking quietly together or singing; not moving in haste, but with a
certain air of eagerness and joy as if they were glad to be on their
way to an appointed place. They did not stay to speak to him, but they
looked at him often and spoke to one another as they looked; and now
and then one of them would smile and beckon him a friendly greeting,
so that he felt they would like him to be with them.

There was quite an interval between the groups; and he followed each
of them with his eyes as it passed along the ribbon of the road rising
and receding across the wide, billowy upland, among the rounded
hillocks of aerial green and gold and lilac, until it came to the high
horizon, and stood outlined for a moment, a tiny cloud of white
against the tender blue, before it vanished over the hill.

For a long time he sat there watching and wondering. It was a very
different world from that in which his mansion on the Avenue was
built; and it looked strange to him, but most real--as real as
anything he had ever seen. Presently he felt a strong desire to know
what country it was and where the people were going. He had a faint
premonition of what it must be, but he wished to be sure. So he rose
from the stone where he was sitting, and came down through the short
grass and the lavender flowers, toward a passing group of people. One
of them turned to meet him, and held out his hand. It was an old man,
under whose white beard and brows John Weightman thought he saw a
suggestion of the face of the village doctor who had cared for him
years ago, when he was a boy in the country.

"Welcome," said the old man. "Will you come with us?"

"Where are you going?"

"To the heavenly city, to see our mansions there."

"And who are these with you?"

"Strangers to me until a little while ago; I know them better now. But
I have known you for a long time, John Weightman. Don't you remember
your old doctor?"

"Yes," he cried--"yes; your voice has not changed at all. I'm glad
indeed to see you, Doctor McLean, especially now. All this seems very
strange to me, almost oppressive. I wonder if--but may I go with you,
do you suppose?"

"Surely," answered the doctor, with his familiar smile; "it will do
you good. And you also must have a mansion in the city waiting for
you--a fine one, too--are you not looking forward to it?"

"Yes," replied the other, hesitating a moment: "