- 
fully in the conversation that passed around, that her mother 
and Herbert forgot . It was a soft and lovely even- 
ing ; her couch, at her own request, had been drawn to the 
open window, and the dying girl looked forth on the beautiful 
wordnetanger beneath. The trees bore the rich full green of summer, 
save where the brilliantly setting sun tinged them with hues 
of gold and crimson. Part of the river was also discernible 
at this point, lying in the bosom of trees, as a small lake, on 
which the heavens were reflected in all their surpassing splen- 
dor. The sun, or rather its remaining beams, rested on the 
brow of a hill, which, lying in the deepest wordnetfear, formed a 
superb contrast with the flood of liquid gold that bathed 
its brow. Clouds of purple, gold, crimson, in some parts 
fading into pink, floated slowly along the azure heavens, and 
the perfect stillness that reigned around completed the en- 
chantment of the wordnetanger. 

" Look up, my Mary, and mark those clouds of light," said 
Herbert. " See the splendor of their hues, the unstained blue 
beyond ; beautiful as is earth, it shows not such exquisite 
beauty as yon heaven displays, even to our mortal sight, nor 
calls such