"It seems so far off, now," said Margaret, dreamily. "As if I were where I could hardly see it--somewhere above this world, and all the things that are in the world. Father, have you any idea what there will be in Heaven?" "There will be Christ," answered Bruno. "And what may be implied in `His glory, which God hath given Him,'--our finite minds are scarcely capable of guessing. Only, His will is that His people shall behold it and share it. It must be something that He thinks worth seeing--He, who has beheld the glory of God before the worlds were." "Father," said Margaret, with deep feeling, "it seems too much that _we_ should see it." "True. But not too much that He should bestow it. He gives,--as He forgives--like a king." Like what king?--was the thought in Doucebelle's mind. Not like the one of whom she knew any thing--who was responsible before God for that death which was coming on so quietly, yet so surely. Beatrice had left the room a few minutes before, and she was now returning to it through the ante-chamber. The dusk was rapidly falling, and, not knowing of any presence but her own, she was extremely startled to find herself grasped by the shoulder, by a firm hand which evidently had no intention of standing any trifling. She looked up into the face of a stranger, and yet a face which was not altogether strange. It was that of a tall, handsome man, with fair hair, and a stern, pained compression of brow and lips. "Is it true?" he said in a husky voice. "Is what true?" Beatrice was too startled to think what he meant. The grasp upon her shoulder tightened till a weaker woman would have screamed. "Belasez, do not trifle with me! Is she dying?" And then, all at once, Beatrice knew who it was that asked her. "It is too true, Sir Richard," she said sadly, pityingly, with almost a reverential compassion for that faithful love which had brought him there that night. "I must see her, Belasez." "Is it wise, Sir Richard?" "Wise!" "Pardon me--is it right?" "Right!--what is the wrong? She is my wife, in God's sight--she and none other. What do I care for Pope or King? Is not God above both? We plighted our vows to Him, and none but He could part us." "Let me break it to her, then," said Beatrice, feeling scarcely so much convinced as overwhelmed. "It will startle her if she be not told beforehand." Richard's only answer was to release Beatrice from his grasp. She passed into Margaret's bower, and, was surprised to see a strange gleam in the eyes of the dying girl. "Beatrice, Richard is here. I know I heard his voice. Bring him to me." "God has told her," said Bruno, in an undertone, as he left the room, with a sign to Beatrice and Doucebelle to follow. They stood in the ante-chamber, minute after minute, but no sound came through the closed door. Half an hour passed in total silence. At last Bruno said-- "I think some one should go in." But no one liked to do it, and the silence went on again.