Beyond the garden all the noble autumn forests waved away in magic splendor—­red, and blue, and golden.  The oaks were beautiful with their waving leaves—­the little alder tree exquisite in its faint saffron—­the tall, tapering pines rose from the surrounding foliage like straight spears, which had caught on their summits royal robes of emerald velvet, green at first, but, when the red light fell upon them, turning to imperial purple, as of old, Emperors of Rome!

All these sights and sounds were pleasant things to Redbud, and she gazed and listened to them with a species of tranquil pleasure, which made her tender face very beautiful.  At last her eyes returned to her old Bible, and she began to read again from the sacred book.

She turned the leaf, and came to a passage around which faint lines were traced in faded ink;—­the words thus marked were those of St. Paul, so sublime in their simplicity, so grand in their quiet majesty: 

“Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ.”

These words had been marked by Redbud’s mother, and as the child gazed upon the faded ink, and thought of the dear hand which had rested upon the page, a tender regret betrayed itself in her veiled eyes, and her lips murmured, wistfully, “Mamma.”  Her down-cast eyes were veiled by the long lashes; and the child’s thoughts went back to the old happy days, when her mother had taught her to pray, joining her infant hands, and telling her about God and all his goodness.

It was not grief which the child felt, as her mental glance thus went backward to the time when her mother was alive;—­rather a tender joy, full of pure love, and so far separated from the world, or the things of the world, that her face grew holy, as if a light from heaven streamed upon it.  Oh, yes! she needed no one to tell her that her dear mother’s desire had been fulfilled—­that she was with Christ; and her heart rose in prayer to the Giver of all good, to bless and purify her, and give her power to conquer all her evil thoughts—­and passing through the toils and temptations of the world, come finally to that happy land where her dear mother lived and loved—­from which she looked upon her child.  She prayed to be kept thus pure; for strength to resist her sinful inclinations, ill-temper, discontent and uncharitable thoughts; for power to divorce her thoughts from the world, spite of its sunshine, and bright flowers and attractions—­to feel that holy desire to be with the dear Savior who had died for her.

The child rose with a countenance that was sacred for its purity, and hopefulness, and trust.  She gazed again upon the brilliant morning land, and listened to the birds, and smiled—­for in the sunlight, and the carol of the bright-winged oriole, and every murmur of the merry wind, she felt the presence of a loving and All-merciful Creator, who would bless her, if she loved and obeyed Him.

And so the tender eyes again beamed with the unclouded light of childhood, and the lips were again calm and happy.  The child had sought for peace and joy from the great central source, and found it.  Everything was now delightful—­all the clouds had passed—­and a bright smile illumined her fresh face, and made the sunlight envious, as it poured its fresh golden radiance upon her brow and cheek.