Poppea, who was trembling like a leaf in the wind, looked toward Hugh, but his face was buried in his arm. Then a calm settled over her. Loosening the robe at her throat, she straightened herself, and from her lips the notes fell soft yet clear:-- "Hark! hark, my soul; angelic songs are swelling." An expression of ineffable peace crossed Mrs. Oldys's face. "Yes, that is it," she whispered, smiling. Unfalteringly Poppea sang to the end, and it was not until the last note died away in complete silence that Hugh raised his head. Presently the doctor looked in, the nurse came forward with some nourishment, and so the night wore on, but it was not until the dawn began to scatter darkness that the frail hands gradually relaxed their loving clasp, and the nurse looking from the shadows beckoned the watchers away. Through the passageway and down the stairs Hugh and Poppea passed together. Then Hugh left her for a moment, returning to say that Dr. Morewood would drive her home as she must have some rest as soon as possible. Mrs. Shandy, coming out, begged her to wait and take a cup of coffee, but Poppea shook her head. Out on the porch in the fresh, yet mysterious air of coming day, they waited for the doctor to bring his chaise. Below lay Moosatuck veiled in mist; beyond, the blue ridge of the hills; one bird called, then another, until half a hundred had picked up the anthem. Each moment it grew lighter, the darkness huddled cornerwise down the west, while the morning star and the harbor beacon paled together. For a time neither spoke nor looked at each other, then Hugh broke the silence. "In a few days, Poppea,--when I am no longer needed,--I shall be going away for a rest, a long rest, and perhaps it may be that afterward my life will lie in other places." Then suddenly breaking down, he grasped her hands, and pressing them to his lips, said, with a half-suppressed cry:-- "Little comrade! Little comrade! All that I can tell you, all that I must tell you, is that God himself could not have done more for me than you have this night." Poppea, who had been looking off into the sunrise, turned her head quickly, and for the first time in months, found his eyes fixed full upon her face before he could shift them. At last she knew! Leaving her hands in his, she leaned toward him, murmuring in a voice so full of joy that it quivered as though strung with tears:-- "Where is more rest than here? _I_ need you, Hugh!" Then to the one behind the closed door and to the two facing the dawn a new life came on the wings of the morning. THE END NOVELS, ETC., BY "BARBARA" (MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT) The Garden of a Commuter's Wife Illustrated "Reading it is like having the entry into a home of the class that is the proudest product of our land, a home where love of books and love of nature go hand in hand with hearty, simple love of 'folks.' ... It is a charming book."--_The Interior._ People of the Whirlpool Illustrated