I know it; I feel it in every throb of my heart.

Even in this world you are as an angel to me, lifting me into the heaven where I shall meet you again, or it will not be heaven.
Oh, if on earth our communion could have been such as it must be hereafter! O Myrtle, Myrtle!" He stretched out his hands as if to clasp hers between them in the rapture of his devotion.

Was it the light reflected from the glossy leaves of the poison sumach which overhung the path that made his cheek look so pale?
Was he going to kneel to her?
Myrtle turned her dark eyes on him with a simple wonder that saw an excess of saintly ardor in these demonstrations, and drew back from it.
"I think of heaven always as the place where I shall meet my mother," she said calmly.
These words recalled the man to himself for a moment and he was silent.
Presently he seated himself on a stone.

His lips were tremulous as he said, in a low tone, "Sit down by me, Myrtle." "No," she answered, with something which chilled him in her voice, "we will not stay here any longer; it is time to go home." "Full time!" muttered Cynthia Badlam, whose watchful eyes had been upon them, peering through a screen of yellow leaves, that turned her face pace as if with deadly passion..