"Is that all, dear Franz?"

"Yes; my will has long been made. Except a legacy to yourself, all goes
to Christine--dear, dear Christine!"

"You love her yet, then, Franz?"

"What do you mean? I have loved her for ages. I shall love her forever.
She is the other half of my soul. In some lives I have missed her
altogether let me be thankful that she has come so near me in this one."

"Do you know what you are saying, Franz?"

"Very clearly, Louis. I have always believed with the oldest
philosophers that souls were created in pairs, and that it is permitted
them in their toilsome journey back to purity and heaven sometimes to
meet and comfort each other. Do you think I saw Christine for the first
time in your uncle's parlor? Louis, I have fairer and grander memories
of her than any linked to this life. I must leave her now for a little.
God knows when and where we meet again; but _He does know_; that is my
hope and consolation."

Whatever were Louis's private opinions about Franz's theology it was
impossible to dissent at that hour, and he took his friend's last
instructions and farewell with such gentle, solemn feelings as had long
been strange to his-heart.

In the afternoon Franz was driven out to Christine's. It was the last
physical effort he was capable of. No one saw the parting of those two
souls. He went with Christine's arms around him, and her lips whispering