death is no division.

[Sidenote: If----]

"A grave has lain between us for more than twenty years, but I am still
her husband--there has been no change. And, if she died loving me, she
is still mine. If she died loving me--if--she--died--loving me----"

His voice broke at the end, and he went out, murmuring the words to
himself. Barbara watched him from the window as he opened the gate. Her
face was wet with tears.

Flaming banners of sunset streamed from the hills beyond him, but his
soul could see no Golden City to-night. He went up the road that led to
another hillside, where, in the long, dreamy shadows, the dwellers in
God's acre lay at peace. Barbara guessed where he was going and her
heart ached for him--kneeling in prayer and vigil beside a sunken grave,
to ask of earth a question to which the answer was lost, in heaven--or
in hell.




V

Eloise


[Sidenote: A Summer Hotel]