“Do not pain me, Salome by refusing to accept my bequest,” interposed the dying woman appealingly, “for it is too late to make any change, even if I knew of any one else to whom to leave my money. The will is in the hands of Mr. Travis, of New York, who has long conducted my business affairs. I have no relatives—there is no one in all the world whom I love save you, and I want you to have whatever I leave. And, Salome, I hope you will remember me kindly—forget, if you can, my disagreeable traits, and if you have found anything pleasant about me, treasure it.” “Indeed I have, dear friend, found much that has been pleasant in our relations,” the young girl returned with streaming eyes. “I began to love you that night when I so wounded you with my song, for I knew how sad your life had been, and my heart went out in sympathy toward you. Then, we always learn to love those for whom we care, you know; while you were ill the bond was strengthened, and now, since we have travelled together, and found that we had so many tastes that were alike, so many sympathies in common, I feel as if I almost belong to you.” Miss Leonard’s face lighted with pleasure, and drawing the fair girl down to her, she kissed her fondly. “Then of course all that I have should be yours,” she said. “At all events I have so decreed—I so wish. You have done me good—I die a better woman for your influence. Kiss me again, Salome, and tell me once more that you love me a little.” “Not a little,” Salome sobbed, laying her cheek to the wan one on the pillow, “but a great deal. Oh, I wish that you could have been spared to me longer, for I am so alone in the world.” “Bless you, dear child! but you know that I am dying now, though you would not believe it at first—another sunrise will find me beyond that line of mystery which we call death; but I am not afraid—you have taught me to hope for a better life hereafter. Now repeat that psalm you love so well, then I will go to sleep.” She did go quietly to sleep, but it was a slumber from which she never awoke, and in less than six hours she had passed the “line of mystery.” It was a sad bereavement to Salome; but she had no time in which to indulge her grief. She had to attend to all the details pertaining to the burial of her friend, and the simple funeral rites were scarcely over when Harriet was attacked with the plague, and she was obliged to devote all her energies to her. The woman was very sick, but she had a strong constitution, and, with the good care she received, she was soon on the road toward recovery, while from that time she was ready to lay down her life for the beautiful girl to whom she owed so much. As soon as she was able to leave her room, she begged Salome to go home to New York; but it was not possible for them to leave the country until the scourge had spent itself, for fear they might carry contagion with them.