“There are few women ever blessed with such a sister as you have been to me,” she said tenderly. “You alone among women have made me feel this last year that you loved me for myself, and would have loved me just the same were I the lonely teacher among my books instead of a favored, flattered, rich woman. Others have given me adulation, you have given me love. And now, dear, that you may know that I know how real a sister you have been to me, until we meet again wear this for me.” I saw the red gleam of the rare jewel in her white hand, as over my finger, held in her own warm grasp, she slipped the ruby ring, her dead sister’s ring which I had always seen her wear. I said no word of thanks. I scarcely realized what she had done. I was dumb with the misery of those moments—a death’s-knell seemed sounding in my ears. We paced on again in silence, letting the precious moments pass. Presently she said, as if in reply to the wild outburst of emotion which had passed and left me numb and speechless, “Yes, dear, it may be as you fear. Whether we meet again, God only knows. But whether it be you or I that goes first into the great wonderful Beyond, of which we have so often talked, I think we shall not be sorry, we shall not be afraid. “‘For from the things we see We trust the things to be, That in the paths untrod, And the long days of God, Our feet shall still be led, Our hearts be comforted.’ “But life is sweet, oh, so sweet. I want to live, there is so much to do,” said Mildred earnestly. Yet in a moment she added, hastily, “But what folly for me to fancy that _I_ am needed to do the work. “‘Others shall sing the song, Others shall right the wrong, Finish what I begin, And all I fail of, win.’” We said no more, but still paced the deck together, looking at sea and shore and sunny sky, finding no words to tell of all that was in our hearts. At last the signal was given, and the tug that was to carry me back to the city steamed alongside. I knew that the moment of parting had come, and, like an exile summoning all his fortitude to help him take bravely the last step across the border line which divides him from home and country, I said, calmly, “Well, dear,— “‘If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why, then, this parting were well made.’” I felt her warm, red lips against my cheek. I heard Ralph’s strong “God bless and keep you, little sister,” and then, almost before I knew it, I had slipped over the vessel’s side, and they were gone. I saw them wave a last adieu. I saw, as in a dream, the white-winged ship, bearing its precious freight, sail out into the dazzling east, over the dimpling sea, the shimmering, golden sea, the cruel, cruel sea.