the dying man.

He lay down. She placed the pillow under his head and knelt again.
It seemed as if her heart could give forth its silent gratitude to
God best in that position.

He laid his hand upon her head. It was growing cold.

"And you are willing now that I should die?"

"Yes, my father, only---," and here a human throb broke in her voice,
"if I could but go with you!"

"No, my child, it is but a little time, at most. For _her_ sake be
content to wait."

"Father, I am content."

"And happy?"

"Very, very happy, father!"

The dying man closed his eyes, and a faint murmur rose to his lips.

"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes
have seen thy salvation."

His hand was still upon her head, and there it rested till the purple
shadows died off into cold grey tints, and upon his still face there
rose a smile pure as moonlight, luminous as waters that gush from