The good man's face was lighted with a still joy. He clasped his

old friend's hand closely, and whispered: "How wonderful it is!
Go on, you will come to your mansion next, it is not far away,
and we shall see each other again soon, very soon."

So he went through the garden, and into the music within.
The Keeper of the Gate turned to John Weightman with level,
quiet,
searching eyes. Then he asked, gravely:

"Where do you wish me to lead you now?"

"To see my own mansion," answered the man, with half-concealed
excitement.
"Is there not one here for me? You may not let me enter it yet,
perhaps,
for I must confess to you that I am only--"

"I know," said the Keeper of the Gate--"I know it all.
You are John Weightman."

"Yes," said the man, more firmly than he had spoken at first,
for it gratified him that his name was known. "Yes, I am John
Weightman,
Senior Warden of St. Petronius' Church. I wish very much to see
my mansion here, if only for a moment. I believe that you have
one for me.
Will you take me to it?"