They sat silent hand in hand on the bench by the side of the promenade, and Dora could not take her eyes from her father's face as he sat with upturned look gazing into the sky.

At last she exclaimed: "I wish you could see yourself, papa, you look all golden and beautiful.

I am sure the angels in heaven look just as you do now." Her father smiled.

"It will soon pass away from me, Dora, but I can imagine your mother standing behind those lovely clouds and smiling down upon us with this golden glory always upon her face." As the Major said, it did pass away very soon; his face grew pale, and shone no longer; the golden light faded from the sky and the shades of night stole on.

The Major rose, and Dora followed him rather sadly.