opposite, and lo! the mist is cleared away. The indulgent moon is out again, revoyaging the plumbless sky. Roof and parapet and spire are softly pearl enamelled. Twice, thrice the retrieved river flashes back, between the houses, the light of the firmament. A tonic day will dawn, sweet and prosperous.
“Talk of death, when the world is so beautiful!” says Miss Rosa, laying her hand on his shoulder. “Do something to please me, Walter. Go home to your rest, and say: ‘I mean to get better,’ and do it.”
“If you ask it,” says the boy, with a smile, “I will.”
The waiter brings full glasses. Did they ring? No; but it is well. He may leave them. A farewell glass. Miss Rosa Says: “To your better health, Walter.” He says; “To our next meeting.”
His eyes look no longer into the void, but
