preliminaries for interment, and then to convey the body to the parish burial ground.
The solitary Jane insisted on accompanying her sister's remains to the grave. "No," said she, "Marrion shall not go unmourned. In life she loved me dearly, and I will not leave her until I have seen her decently laid in her last resting place." And she followed, accompanied by the kind old neighbour. But it was too much for her. At the close of the sad ceremony she fainted, and was borne senseless to her forlorn home.
I saw her often during the three succeeding days, and on the evening of the last she appeared more cheerful than usual. Her cheek was flushed and her eye was unusually bright.
She spoke of her sister calmly, and told me how happy they had often been after leaving church on Sundays, when walking in the green fields; and that Marrion would sometimes wonder if heaven were like green fields, all covered with flowers, and flooded with sunshine; and observe how happy we should be when there. "I dreamt of her last night," said she, " and she appeared to be standing in the midst of a beautiful garden, surrounded with angelic forms—who beckoned me towards them. The happy expression of her countenance is before me still, but in my effort to join her I awoke."
That night Jane bade me adieu very affectionately. She then lay down, and I left her on her little couch in a gentle sleep. The next morning she was a corpse. ***** One grave encloses the remains of the two sisters. No
