said, "you look like a spirit. It is as if with the
earth you had naught to do--as if your eyes saw Heaven itself and Him who
reigns there."

The lovely orbs of Clorinda shone more still like the great star of
morning.

"Sister Anne," she said, laying her hand on her white breast, "at times I
think that I must almost be a spirit, I feel such heavenly joy. It is as
if He whom you believe in, and who can forgive and wipe out sins, has
forgiven me, and has granted it to me, that I may begin my poor life
again. Ah! I will make it better; I will try to make it as near an
angel's life as a woman can; and I will do no wrong, but only good; and I
will believe, and pray every day upon my knees--and all my prayers will
be that I may so live that my dear lord--my Gerald--could forgive me all
that I have ever done--and seeing my soul, would know me worthy of him.
Oh! we are strange things, we human creatures, Anne," with a tremulous
smile; "we do not believe until we want a thing, and feel that we shall
die if 'tis not granted to us; and then we kneel and kneel and believe,
because we _must_ have somewhat to ask help from."

"But all help has been given to you," poor tender Anne said, kissing her
hand again; "and I will pray, I will pray--"

"Ay, pray, Anne, pray with all thy soul," Clorinda answered; "I need thy
praying--and thou didst believe always, and have asked so little that has
been given thee."

"Thou wast given me, sister," said Anne. "Thou hast given me a home and
kindness such as I never dared to hope; thou hast been like a great star
to me--I have had none other, and I thank Heaven on my knees each night
for the brightness my star has shed on me."

"Poor Anne, dear Anne!" Clorinda said, laying her arms about her and
kissing her. "Pray for thy star, good, tender Anne, that its light may
not be quenched." Then with a sudden movement her hand was pressed upon
her bosom again. "Ah, Anne," she cried, and in the music of her voice,
agony itself was ringing--"Anne, there is but one thing on this earth God
rules over--but one thing that belongs--_belongs_ to me; and 'tis Gerald
Mertoun--and he is mine and _shall_ not be taken from me, for he is a
part of me, and I a part of him!"

"He will not be," said Anne--"he will not."

"He cannot," Clorinda answered--"he shall not! 'Twould not be human."

She drew a long breath and was calm again.

"Did it reach your ears," she said, reclasping a band of jewels on her