whatever be the fate and circumstances of their earthly tenements?"
"They may, they may!" cried she with a momentary burst of glad enthusiasm. "I thought of that too, Gilbert, but I feared to mention it, because I feared you would not understand my views upon the subject—I fear it even now—I fear any kind friend would tell us we are both deluding ourselves with the idea of keeping up a spiritual intercourse without hope or prospect of anything further—without fostering vain regrets and hurtful aspirations, and feeding thoughts that should be sternly and pitilessly left to perish of inanition—"
"Never mind our kind friends: if they can part our bodies, it is enough; in God's name, let them not sunder our souls!" cried I, in terror lest she should deem it her duty to deny us this last remaining consolation.
"But no letters can pass between us here," said she, "without giving fresh food for scandal; and when I departed, I had intended that my
