"Not yet, my child. When you have studied them as long, and have the
memories of years clustering around each well-remembered spot, they may
look the same to you as they now do to me; but not till then," she added,
I fancied a little sadly.

"Probably I shall enjoy this exquisite view better without the memories;
they usually hold a sting."

"That depends on the way we use life. To live as God wills, leaves no
sting for after thought."

"Not if death comes and takes our loved ones? How alone I am in the world
because of him."

"There are far sadder experiences than yours. Death is not always our
worst enemy; we may have a death in life, compared with which Death
itself is an angel of light."

"Oh, what a strange, sad thing life is at the best! Is it worth being
born and suffering so much for all the joy we find?"

"No, indeed, if this life were all; but it is only the faint dawn of a
brighter, grander existence, more worthy the gift of a God."

"But we must die to get to that fuller, higher life;" I said, suddenly
remembering poor Blake's dead wife.

She smiled compassionately.