"If that is the case, my dear, I greatly fear that a part of your thoughts were not as cheerful as they might have been," his wife said as her chair was drawn closer. Taking the hand that was scarred and disfigured in several places by abuse in his childhood, she continued: "I fear that many things concerning your childhood would be very hard indeed if you were forced to live them over again even in thought." "Yes, Wife, that is true. There were many hard and bitter things, which are indeed painful to recall, especially those pertaining to my mother. To know that she has left this life without any hope for the future world, feeling that such was unnecessary, is hard, but it was not of her nor of her attitude toward me that I was thinking altogether. I was meditating upon my life as a whole. You see, more than fifty summers and winters have passed since I left the poorhouse in my boyhood days, and I have passed well over the best part of my life. I am now on the downward slope of life's mountain of years, and it will not be long until I shall be entering the valley of the shadow of death." The soft fingers of the gentle wife closed more tightly over the hand they held, as she said: "Yes, dear, neither of us is young any more, for the silvery threads are already in our hair; but whether our years on earth are few or many, I believe that we both are ready to enter into the presence of our Lord at any moment that he should call for us." "I have no fears on those lines, Wife," Edwin said, while his eyes were still upon the beautiful horizon; "for I have the sweet assurance within my soul that I am a child of God and that I am on the road that leads to eternal bliss and glory for all who are faithful unto the end. But this evening as I sat here gazing upon the beautiful handiwork of God, I wondered what could be awaiting us in that brighter and better world beyond the grave." "That is not for us to know now, Edwin, but some day the curtain will be drawn aside, and I am sure that the scene will be all the brighter for our having had to await God's time to reveal to us the mysteries that he has for a time thought best to veil." The silence that followed seemed too sacred to be broken, and the gathering darkness crept slowly about them. When the last shade of crimson had left the sky, Edwin said: