I had known that I might have loved him, all my life. I had never loved any other man. I had not seen him for almost twenty years. As our eyes met, our souls challenged one another in silence, and in strength. I was the first to speak: “_Where is she?_” “Not with me.” “When did you die?” “Years ago.” “I had lost all trace of you.” “It was better so, for all concerned.” “Is she--is she”-- “She is on earth, and of it; she has found comfort long since; another fills my place. I do not grieve to yield it. Come!” “But I have thought--for all these years--it was not right--I put the thought away--I do not understand”-- “Oh, come! I, too, have waited twenty years.” “But is there no reason--no barrier--are you sure? God help me! You have turned Heaven into Hell for me, if this is not right.” “Did I ever ask you to give me one pitying thought that was not right?” “Never, God knows. Never. You helped me to be right, to be noble. You were the noblest man I ever knew. I was a better woman for having known you, though we parted--as we did.” “Then do you trust me? Come!” “I trust you as I do the angels of God.” “And I love you as His angels may. Come!” “For how long--am I to come?” “Are we not in Eternity? I claim you as I have loved you, without limit and without end. Soul of my immortal soul! Life of my eternal life!--Ah, come.” XV. And yet so subtle is the connection in the eternal life between the soul’s best moments and the Source of them, that I felt unready for my joy until it had His blessing whose Love was the sun of all love, and whose approval was sweeter than all happiness. Now, it was a part of that beautiful order of Heaven, which we ceased to call accident, that while I had this wish upon my lips, we saw Him coming to us, where we still stood alone together in the open field. We did not hasten to meet Him, but remained as we were until He reached our side; and then we sank upon our knees before Him, silently. God knows what gain we had for the life that we had lost below. The pure eyes of the Master sought us with a benignity from which we thanked the Infinite Mercy that our own had not need to droop ashamed. What weak, earthly comfort could have been worth the loss of a moment such as this? He blesses us. With His sacred hands He blesses us, and by His blessing lifts our human love into so divine a thing that this seems the only life in which it could have breathed. * * * * * By-and-by, when our Lord has left us, we join hands like children, and walk quietly through the dazzling air, across the field, and up the hill, and up the road, and home. I seek my mother, trembling, and clasp her, sinking on my knees, until I hide my face upon her lap. Her hands stray across my hair and cheek. “What is the matter, Mary?--_dear_ Mary!” “Oh, Mother, I have Heaven in my heart at last!” “Tell me all about it, my poor child. Hush! There, there! my dear!”