was but yesterday, and she sat again by his side watching the deep life of his eyes, eyes on which she would never look again. Were they closed forever? "O, heart so desolate. O, lone and barren shore, where are the waves of joy? All receded; all; and she seemed to stand upon the beach alone, while a chill ran over her.

"You are chilly, Miss Wyman, let me close the window."

But Dawn heard not, saw not; for before her vision appeared a face all radiant with life, toned by a look of intensest sympathy; while on the brow glittered a star so radiant that mortal might not gaze upon it. Its rays seemed to enter her very soul, and pierce it with life and light, bathing it with a flood of joy. It was no longer dark, her face beamed with a strange light when Miss Bernard turned to call her attention to some pictures which were unfinished.

"You seemed far away, Miss Wyman," said she. "It's so like Basil. He has such moments of abstraction, and almost takes me with him."

"I was away for a moment; but what a lovely picture you have here."

"It's one I am trying to copy, but I make little progress."

"Truth is not necessarily literal, is it? If so, I should make a poor copyist."

"It is not; and there is where most persons fail. 'The Divine can never be literal, and there is in all art a vanishing point, where the Divine merges itself into the ideal.' And that vanishing point is seen in the human composition, as well as in natural objects, that point where we lose ourselves in the Divine, and merge our own being into that greater, grander being. You are an artist, Miss Wyman, you group human souls and portray them in all their naturalness; not on canvas, for that could not be, but spiritually to our inner sight.

"I love art in whatever form it may come to glorify life, for true art is catholic, beneficent, touching with its mystic wand every soul within its reach, thrilling even the sluggish and the slumbering with a new sense of the Divine bounty which makes this world so lovely and fair."

Miss Bernard looked grateful for the rich appreciation of her guest, which she had scarce dared hope to find; and from art they drifted to life and some of its present needs, glowing with friendly recognition as they advanced and found each possessed with similar views. Thus do we meet pilgrims on the way, at some unexpected turn, when we thought ourselves alone upon the road.

"I know by these pictures, Miss Bernard," said Dawn, "that your life is full of practicality."

"You surprise me, for every stranger thinks that I do nothing else."

"If nothing else, you would not do this, or anything of a fanciful nature."

"I see you have had some experience, for very few entertain that sentiment."

"I have seen enough to know that those whose time is at their own disposal rarely accomplish anything, either practical or beautiful. The one helps the other, and one who delves hardest in the practical, rises ofttimes highest in the ideal."

"It is true of my own self, and others. My experiences have been varied and deep in human life and I have learned that time is of no value unless it is estimated by the amount of labor that can be accomplished. When thus estimated, however it may be employed, the results are productive of good to the individual."

"How I wish, Miss Bernard, that the whole human family might have just enough labor and time for improvement which they need. Life looks so hard and inharmonious at times, when we see thousands toiling from early morn till night, with no moments for thought or culture, that we cannot but ask where justice to God's children is meted out."

"Life is strangely interspersed with clouds and sunshine. I know that somewhere all will find recompense for such seeming losses, and that what we now look upon as evil will be seen to be good and best for all. Did I not know this, Miss Wyman, I should have little heart to go on. Of one thing I am certain, and that is, we must each keep working, performing the labor of the day, and some time the great united good will come from all this individual work. It is but an atom that each one does, but it counts as the grain of sand on the sea-shore, and helps by its infinitesimal portion toward the aggregate."

"Did you ever feel, Miss Bernard, that extended vision of life's conditions incapacitated us for real, vigorous service?"

"I have felt at times it might be so, but am convinced that it does not; it only deepens our effort and endeavor."

"I have often thought that I was unfitted for life, from the very fact that I saw so much to be done."

"When we see so much it makes us meditate, and that very condition gives birth to greater power."

"True, and yet I often wish I did not see so much. Why do I not oftener feel a power somewhat commensurate with the demand and wish?"

"I suppose, because the power is born of the time and the need, and not a burden to encumber us on our way. It is not of material nature; cannot be packed and stored away for some occasion that may arise, but is proportioned and adapted to the kind and quality of the requirement."

"You have explained it just as I felt it somewhere in my soul. The thought in me needed the quickening of another mind. You do me good, Miss Bernard, every moment. O, how much we need interchange of thought."

"We do, indeed, in order to know ourselves, if nothing more. But I see that you are weary. Stay with us and rest, will you? New atmospheres are good to throw off fatigue in."

"I should indeed be delighted to stay here. Was Ralph fond of being here?"

"Very; and he is here now."

"Then you believe in the presence of spirits, and their cognizance of us, and we of them?"

"Yes, for many years, and have been led by their advice."

"I am at rest. I find many who believe in communion, but not communication. I accept both."

"And so do I. We will compare experiences, and have many happy hours. How much we shall all enjoy. You must know my brother, Miss Wyman, for he, too, loved Ralph with all the ardor of his deep nature."

The next hour Dawn sat alone in communion with self, wondering at the daily events of life, and her own deepening womanhood. Life to her was growing richer each day. She felt that she was catching the divine breath, and coming into celestial harmony, which is the soul's true state. O, what bliss awaits us, when we have passed from the exterior to the interior life; a state not of worlds, but of soul, where we come into divine submission, and can say, "Thy will, not mine, be done."

CHAPTER XXX.

Mrs. Austin left the next day, and the soul-united trio were alone. Only those who know the value of fresh minds and blending qualities of heart and spirit, can realize how much they enjoyed together. To Dawn, Basil seemed new and old,--old in acquaintance, as we ever find those who have pursued the same current of thought; new in the power of presenting truth to her mind, in fresh combination and coloring. He had all the delicacy of Ralph, with more mental vigor, and broader experiences.

His sister, Dawn learned to love better every day, as she witnessed the exercise of her varied powers, all working in harmony, and rounding her life into completeness.

"I could live here forever," she exclaimed, one morning, when nature was sparkling with diamond drops of dew, and singing her morning praises.

"Then stay forever," said a voice, deep and musical, at her side. "Why not stay forever? for we should stay where we live the most," said Basil, laying his hand on her head. "I suppose, however, the 'forever' meant, so long as your life here is replete with enjoyment, did it not?"

"Yes, I suppose that is our definition of 'forever,' and as it is a portion of it, we may properly call it thus."

"Then see that you stay your 'forever,' and make us happy in so doing," and his earnest eyes fastening their gaze on hers, told how dearly he loved to have her there.

The bell rang for breakfast, and the little party brought bright faces and fresh thoughts to the meal.

"Would you like to sail upon the pond, to-day?" inquired Miss Bernard of Dawn.

"Nothing better, if there are lilies we can gather."

"There is a plenty, so we shall go. You will see my brother in a new phase to-day, Miss Wyman, for nothing calls forth the sweetness of his nature like sailing."