He is at rest now." "Yes, he is at rest!"-- and Mary struggled to repress her tears--"Come and see!" Hand in hand they entered the little room where the dead man lay, covered with a snowy sheet, his waxen hands crossed peacefully outside it, and delicate clusters of white roses and myrtle laid here and there around him.

His face was like a fine piece of sculptured marble in its still repose--the gravity and grandeur of death had hallowed the worn features of old age, and given them a great sweetness and majesty.

The two lovers stood gazing at the corpse for a moment in silent awe--then Mary whispered softly-- "He seems only asleep! And he looks happy." "He _is_ happy, dear!--he must be happy!"-- and Angus drew her gently away.

"Poor and helpless as he was, still he found a friend in you at the last, and now all his troubles are over.

He has gone to Heaven with the help and blessing of your kind and tender heart, my Mary! I am sure of that!" She sighed, and her eyes were clouded with sadness.
"Heaven seems very far away sometimes!" she said.