Only three were seen in the customary place, after many years; then but two, and, for a long time afterwards, but one solitary female bent with age.

At length she came no more, and the stone bore five plain Christian names.
'That stone has worn away and been replaced by others, and many generations have come and gone since then.

Time has softened down the colours, but the same stream of light still falls upon the forgotten tomb, of which no trace remains; and, to this day, the stranger is shown in York Cathedral, an old window called the Five Sisters.' 'That's a melancholy tale,' said the merry-faced gentleman, emptying his glass.
'It is a tale of life, and life is made up of such sorrows,' returned the other, courteously, but in a grave and sad tone of voice.
'There are shades in all good pictures, but there are lights too, if we choose to contemplate them,' said the gentleman with the merry face.
'The youngest sister in your tale was always light-hearted.' 'And died early,' said the other, gently.
'She would have died earlier, perhaps, had she been less happy,' said the first speaker, with much feeling.

'Do you think the sisters who loved her so well, would have grieved the less if her life had been one of gloom and sadness?
If anything could soothe the first sharp pain of a heavy loss, it would be--with me--the reflection, that those I mourned, by being innocently happy here, and loving all about them, had prepared themselves for a purer and happier world.

The sun does not shine upon this fair earth to meet frowning eyes, depend upon it.' 'I believe you are right,' said the gentleman who had told the story.
'Believe!' retorted the other, 'can anybody doubt it?
Take any subject of sorrowful regret, and see with how much pleasure it is associated.
The recollection of past pleasure may become pain--' 'It does,' interposed the other.
'Well; it does.