What passed between them I never heard; but it was not beyond conjecture.  The method of his regard for her subsequently, fully revealed it.  It was the most lofty and refined feeling of which humanity is capable—­the worship of the artist—­the friendship of the man.

Well,—­the last scene arrived.  We knew that the time had come.  It was, as she had hoped, at sunset.  She gazed long at the changing splendors of the western sky.  ‘Such,’ she said, ’is death.  Life merely revolves away from us, but the soul still shines the same upon another sphere.  The faith that invests death with terror is a false one.  We pass from one world to another—­drop one style of existence for a higher.  We enter on a life in which may be realized all which here we have vainly sought for.  The soul-longings shall all be there fulfilled.  Come soon—­all of you.  I shall be waiting you.  There love and friendship—­unsullied and unruffled—­without passion or misconception—­will give perpetual happiness.’

* * * * *

And so she passed away.  This is the tenth anniversary of her death.  We bore hither all that was left of her to us, and Frank’s chisel has marked her resting place.  Her children are beside her, and I wait impatiently the time when I may enter with them on that existence where the budding affections of earth shall blossom into immortal enjoyment.

* * * * *

As Mr. Bell ceased his narrative, I pressed his hand, and without words departed.

About noon next day the rumor circulated through the streets that he was dead.  I hastened to his house, and learned that it was true.  He had been found at a late hour of the morning lying on his bed, dressed as I had left him.  Physicians made an examination of the corpse, and attributed the cause to apoplexy.  I did not lament him, for I knew his spirit was in the embrace of the loved ones who went before him.

* * * * *

SELF-RELIANCE.

  When the eaglets’ tender wings are feathered
    The old eagles crowd them from the nest;
  Down they flutter till their plumes have gathered
    Strength to lift them to the granite crest
    Of the hills their eldest sires possessed.

  When the one cub of the lordly lions
    Strikes the earth and shakes his bristling mane,
  Forth they lash him, though he growl defiance,
    O’er the sand-waste to pursue his gain,—­
    Shaggy Nimrod of the desert plain!

  Still the eagles watch out from the eyrie
    On the mountains, their young heirs to screen;
  The old lions on the hot sand-prairie,—­
    If some peril track their cub,—­unseen,
    Stealthier than the Bedouin, glide between.

  So the noblest of earth’s creatures noble
    Are cast forth to find their way alone,
  So our manhood, in its day of trouble,
    Is but crowded from the sheltering zone
    And broad love-wings, to achieve its throne.