How that music spoke to the poor, craving, hungry heart within her flat and weazen bosom. Youth and hope seemed singing joyous songs of life’s springtime; love then burst forth blushing while whispering the sweet serenade of that glorious summer season of womankind. Then in cadence soft and tender, gently as fall the autumn leaves, the music sadly told of blighting frosts. Youth and hope like summer roses withered and vanished. Now the gloom, despair and disappointment of life’s winter wailing forth filled the heart of the forlorn old maiden; tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks unheeded and almost a sob escaped from her quivering lips. Weep no more sad heart. The music in pealing tones of triumph is shouting the Glad Tidings of that eternity of endless spring, where all is Love and all is Joy; where the flowers of everlasting summer never fade and die; where no blighting frost can come to wither the blossoms of Youth and Hope; where the cold blasts of winter’s gloom and disappointment never blow to chill and sadden the soul. Grandly resound those notes triumphant; open seem the gates of that promised future, together brother and sister their souls seem ascending; above all is bright, refulgent with the great light of gladness, now, coming sweetly, faintly, they catch the sound of welcome, sung above by that heavenly chorus. The music died away in silence. Brother and sister sat for a long time, each busy with their own thoughts. Who but the All-wise can ever tell what thoughts come on such occasions to those who in silence hold self-communion in the sanctuary of their own souls. “David, it seems strange to me that one having the tenderness of heart that you have, should never have found some good woman to love,” said the sister softly when the silence was finally broken. “Indeed, sister, I sometimes think I might have done so and been happier far than I am, had I not early in life given, in the intense way that is part of my nature, all the love of my heart and consecrated all my devotion to the business in which I then engaged and submerged my every emotion in the glory and honor of the house of ‘J. Dunlap.’” “Ah, brother, I often think of that and wonder what would happen if aught should go wrong with the object of your life-long devotion.” “It would kill me, Arabella,” said Chapman quietly. The certainty of the result to the man, should misfortune shatter the idol of his adoration, was more convincingly conveyed to the listener by that simple sentence and quiet tone than excited exclamation could have carried; Arabella uttered a sigh as she thought of the unshared place that ‘J. Dunlap’ held in the strenuous soul of her brother. “Brother, you should not allow your mind and heart to become so wrapped up in the house of Dunlap; remember the two old gentlemen, in the course of nature, must soon pass away and that then there is no Dunlap to continue the business, and the career of the firm must come to an end.”