So, singing thus soft and low, knowing that the faintest whisper reaches heaven, the thick darkness began to roll in solemn folds away; a golden cloud floated around. Warmth and hope stole to my shivering heart, as it divided and revealed a doorway. Some strong refulgence shone on the other side of it, for even though sparkling through the crevices, it pained me to blindness. Covering my dazzled eyes with trembling hands, voices broke on my year, my name was said.

"I am here, here," I exclaimed, wildly flinging myself against the closed door. • Open

and let me in.”

66

"Ah, Roland!" said a voice well known, though years had elapsed since I had heard it; "it is our child, our Nellie! She has never been so near us before!"

"Mother! mother! take your little Nellie to your heart. I am lonely, sad-open-open to me. There was no answer.

Calming the wild sobs bursting from my heart, I knelt by the door, bending my ear to the loophole, to catch the first words.

There was a whisper as of silvery murmurs,

and a rustling, as if the pearled feathers of ring-doves shook with sudden emotion.

"The child, for whom they have waited so long at the gate, is knocking. 'Is it time?'"

This was repeated, as it seemed to me, from circle to circle, from cloud to cloud, from star to star, until, like a distant echo, I heard it up in the furthest, bluest Heaven. And a voice answered full, like a river of melody,-soft, yet filling the heavens, the earth, the caverns, the deep places of the sea with its sweet power"It is not time."

And I sank, heart-stricken, to the foot of the door. Of a sudden it seemed transparent, and I saw through it my father and mother, Noel, my kind grandfather. They smiled on me, with peace and happiness on their faces. Noel's was like the beautiful picture I had first seen, framed, in the window of the little hired carriage, no pain, no care, no furrows thereon. Dazzling were their garments, all hues, all changing, all burnished with silvered pearls, and gleaming with crimson and purple tints. Slowly they faded from sight, bidding me farewell, with gentle beckonings, and soft smiles of hope.

So I was left in the dark, weeping bitterly. And presently came to my heart, a feeling of peace and serenity. "I have work to do yet; it shall be done, as well as weak mortal can promise." So I wiped away the hot tears that blinded me, and looked up in trust and hope. The soft eyes of Selina met my gaze. I was at home, lying on my own bed.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"Thou who dost dwell alone-
Thou, who dost know thine own-

Thou, to whom all are known
From the cradle to the grave-
Save, oh! save.

From the world's temptations,
From tribulations;

From that fierce anguish

Wherein we languish ;

From that torpor deep

Wherein we lie and sleep

Heavy as death, cold as the grave—

Save, oh! save."

MATTHEW ARNOLD.

"It was not yet time, Selina," I said. Strange, methought, sounded my voice.

No, love," she answered, stooping and kissing me.

VOL. III.

U

Her look was calm and composed, but the quick blood crimsoned her face, as if her heart had bounded, and a tear fell on my face.

I did not care to say more; it was as if I could not. There was no need, Selina would watch, I knew. She would not let me fall

again.

So I turned to sleep.

When I awoke, again Selina's face bent over me; Richard was looking eagerly over her shoulder.

"It was a sad fall, but hurt me not, I think." I wished to assure them no harm was done.

Selina looked quickly at Richard.

He said, in his usual voice,

"That is well, Nellie, you will be up in a few days."

"Did you raise me up?" I asked Richard,

after a little pause.

"No, the Lord did."

"The Lord be praised."

Amen, Nellie."

That "Amen" reminded me.

"I saw my grandfather, Richard; it was