my dearest husband; it is but a little parting; you
will meet me there at last." Turning to the Sea-flower, with her hand
still upon the head of her daughter, she added, "my child will soon be
motherless; through you, she is what I could wish to see her; and when I
am gone, will you never lose sight of her? make her to be like
yourself!" In a feeble voice she continued, "thank God that we may see
heaven upon earth; the gentle spirit is pointing me to my rest;" a
slight trembling of her weary frame, and she had gone to be with the
"just made perfect;" a smile was upon her features, and they smoothed
her limbs as for a night's repose. The father mingled his tears with
those of his child, who was all that was left to him. The Sea-flower,
leaning upon the arm of him who thought it not unmanly to weep over the
scene he had witnessed, retired, leaving the afflicted ones to weep away
the anguish in their hearts, ere they might look upon the loving
kindness of Him, whose ways are all perfect.

CHAPTER IX.

BEHIND THE CLOUDS THE SUN IS SHINING.

"I am armed with innocence,
Less penetrable than the steel-ribbed coats
That harness round thy warriors."

MADDEN'S THEMISTOCLES.

"That one so formed in mind and charms to grace,
The brightest scenes of life, should have her seat
In the shadow of a cloud; and yet 'tis weakness.
The angels watch the good and innocent,
And where they gaze it must be glorious."

MRS. BALE'S "ORMOND GROSVENOR."

My gentle reader will pardon the long stride of time which here
intervenes, disclosing nothing of those in whom we feel an interest.
Nearly a year of moments had sped since that in which Mrs. Santon had
passed away. Winnie had seen her loved mother laid in that narrow,
silent house, which is prepared for the dead, and her tears had watered
the green grass which groweth so silently,--upspringing everywhere, even
in the lonely places of burial, a fit covering for those who
slumber,--emblematical of the life beyond the tomb. The joyous mirth
which abode in Winnie's nature had superseded, in a measure, days of
deep mourning; yet this first taste of earth's sorrow had left an
impress upon her mind never to be erased; and though thoughtless ones
perhaps observed no change in her young, elastic spirits, there was one,
gentle and youthful, who had been to her as a mother in her
bereavement,--the Sea-flower. She could see that the de