been put off for a month, then for three, and then for an indefinite period. She is now dying, but she is not unhappy; for Gerald, who has been sent for, sits beside her, holding her hand in his, and weeping; he has been true to his promise to Lillian, but never, not for one moment, has Lushes suspected that he loves another.
Lillian, too, is there, moving around the chamber like a ministering angel. She has seen little of Gerald since their parting year before, and this meeting has been something of a trial for her, but she has learned to lean less on her own pride of heart and more on a higher source, and she has triumphed. At Lushee’s dying request, she has come to be with her. She met Gerald with composed words, thanks to the efficacy of prayer.
It is a calm, summer evening, and the sweet, fragment air—for it is the country—steals in through the casement and fans the hot cheek of the sufferer.
“Raise me up,” said Lashee faintly.
Gerald softly supported her in his arms. while Lillian arranged the pillows under her. Lushee smiled ‘on both, oh, how kindly,
The rustle of the trees, the mummer of running waters, the birds chirping in the hedges, and other sweet, rural sounds flooded in until the room was filled with holy music, and then a distant church bell tolled for the evening service. The low, musical sound seemed to her like a call from heaven.
“When another day comes around,” said Lushee, “and you hear that vesper bell again, I shall be no more among you. But I die happy. It is only at parting with you, Gerald, that I grieve. Yet it is all for the beat.
She stopped, for her breath grew shorter and shorter, and she had to pause to recover herself. Soon she resumed—
“Don't weep, Gerald," she said, “nor you, Lillian. I am not fit for a world like this, and it is better [should go hence]. We shall all meet in heaven.”
“Dear Lushee,” sobbed Lillian. She could not say more.
Gerald turned his face away and sobbed audibly.
"I have something to ask of you, Gerald,” said Lushee after awhile, and when all were more composed. “It has been on my mind ever since I have been here. It is about your marrying again. I wish that you and Lillian could love each other. I often wondered why you never did. I'm sure you would make ‘each other happy."
She stopped and looked from one to another.
Tears were raining down the cheeks of Lillian, but she did not look at Gerald; her eyes were fixed on her dying father. Gerald, too, regarded only Lashee.
“Yon are both here,” said the dying angel, “and can you answer me? Lillian, I know, loves no one; and you, Gerald, will you not obey me?” and she looked from one to the other.
For an instant, the eyes of Gerald and Lillian met, and a thrill, a strange thrill, awfully solemn yet not bitter, went to the hearts of each. Then their gaze rested on Lushes. She had seen their mutual glance; she indeed directed it; and now a happy smile broke over her countenance; she joined their bands.
“May you be happy, dear Lillian,” she said. "And, Gerald, be true to her—she is a jewel worth keeping.“God bless you both!”
She smiled again, more sweetly than ever, turning from the face of one to that of the other. Gradually, her hold on the hands of either relaxed—slowly, slowly. The vesper bell still tolled—but fainter and fainter, with departing cadence, When its last tremulous note vibrated over hill and dale, she murmured the names of Gerald and Lillian, and her spirit passed away, wafting upward to Heaven. It is no dream to think, by good angels who had waited at the threshold.
A moment before, and there had been three in that room, now Gerald and Lillian, looking instinctively at each other, felt there were only two. And, oh, how solemn is that conviction? Gerald tenderly laid the body of the departed on the bed, and then he and Lillian sank on their knees side by side.
They were different beings, were Gerald and Lilian, after that trial. Sorrow had chastened their hearts, and the memory of the dead thereafter was their talisman.
A year had passed since the demise of Lushee, when Gerald came to claim her. Ashly was once again decked in summer bloom. It was just two years from that night when Lillian made him promise to keep his troth to Lushee, and, though to surrender him then bad almost broke her heart, she rejoiced now at it. She felt that, from her home in heaven, Lushee saw and bless her for what she done.
“Oh, dear Lillian,” said Gerald to the bride, “how terrible a thing is pride. It came near shipwrecking me—but you, thank heaven, were my better angel.”
Litlian laid her head on her husband’s shoulder, ‘and there she sobbed, for her heart was falling.
OH, GIVE ME BACK MY HEART.
BY EDWARD J. PORTER.
Oh, give me back my heart, agrin.
In Raptare’s moment given,
While rooning, it played the epirit breath.
Of love's enchanting heaven:
The chain that linked thy beauty has broken.
The brightest links apart
Oh, give me back my heart again?
‘Oh, give me back, say, heart?
‘Oh, give me back my heart again.
It is now a withered thing.
Like a shattered tute, whose tones are fown,
‘And broken each bright rings
No touch may to ite chonls again.
Love's passion-hreath imparts
Ob, glvo me hack my heart again’
Oh, give me back my heart.
