"I will reach the standard of perfection you have set for me, my Savior," I faltered, with clasped hands uplifted to him, "if it takes all my life in heaven and all the help from all the angels of light to accomplish it;" and with these words upon my lips, and his tender eyes resting upon me, I sank into the blissful repose of heaven. CHAPTER XV. I shall know the loved who have gone before, And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, When over the river, the peaceful river, The Angel of Death shall carry me. --[Nancy A. W. Priest. So much occurred, and so rapidly, from the very hour of my entrance within the beautiful gates, that it is impossible for me to transcribe it all. I have been able only to cull here and there incidents that happened day by day; and in so doing many things I would gladly have related have unconsciously been omitted. Of the many dear friends I met, only a very few have been mentioned, for the reason that, of necessity, such meetings are so similar in many respects that the constant repetition, in detail, would become wearisome. I have aimed principally to give such incidents as would show the beautiful domestic life in that happy world; to make apparent the reverence and love all hearts feel toward the blessed Trinity for every good and perfect gift, and to show forth the marvelous power of the Christ-love even in the life beyond the grave. This world, strange and new to me, held multitudes of those I had loved in the years gone by, and there was scarcely an hour that did not renew for me the ties that once were severed in the mortal life. I remember that as I was walking one day in the neighborhood of Mrs. Wickham's home, shortly after my first memorable visit there, I was attracted by an unpretentious but very beautiful house, almost hidden by luxuriant climbing rose vines, whose flowers of creamy whiteness were beyond compare with any roses I had yet seen in earth or heaven. Meeting Mrs. Wickham, I pointed to the house and asked: "Who lives there?" "Suppose you go over and see," she said. "Is it any one I know?" I asked. "I fancy so. See, someone is even now at the door as though expecting you." I crossed over the snowy walk and flowery turf--for the house stood in an angle formed by two paths crossing, almost opposite Mrs. Wickham's--and before I could ascend the steps I found myself in the embrace of two loving arms. "Bertha Sprague! I was sure it was you when I saw you go to Mrs. Wickham's a day or two ago. Did not she tell you I was here?" "She had no opportunity until to-day," I said. "But dear Aunt Ann, I should have found you soon; I am sure you know that." "Yes, I am sure you would." Then I recounted to her something of my visit to Mrs. Wickham's that eventful day. She listened with her dear face full of sympathy, then said: