“God help her.  Let her rest and forget them,” said the old gentleman.  “But an old church is a gloomy place for one so young as you, my child.”

“Oh no, sir,” returned Nell, “I have no such thoughts, indeed.”

“I would rather see her dancing on the green at night,” said the old gentleman, laying his hand upon her head, “than have her sitting in the shadow of our mouldering arches.  You must look to this, and see that her heart does not grow heavy among the solemn ruins.”

After more kind words, they withdrew, and from that time Nell’s heart was filled with a serene and peaceful joy, and she occupied herself with such light tasks as were hers to accomplish, and the peace of the simple village moved her deeply, while more and more she grew to love the old and silent chapel.

She sat down one day in this old and silent place, among the stark figures on the tombs and gazing round with a feeling of awe tempered with calm delight, felt that now she was happy and at rest.  She took a Bible and read; then laying it down, thought of the summer days and bright springtime that would come—­of the rays of sun that would fall in aslant upon the sleeping forms—­of the song of birds, and growth of buds and blossoms out of doors—­What if the spot awakened thoughts of death?  Die who would, these sights and sounds would still go on, as happily as ever.  It would be no pain to sleep amidst them.

She left the chapel, and climbed to its turret-top.  Oh! the glory of the sudden burst of light; the freshness of the fields and woods, meeting the bright blue sky; everything so beautiful and happy!  It was like passing from death to life; it was drawing nearer heaven.  And yet the dim old chapel had for her a depth of fascination which the outer world did not possess.  Again that day, twice, she stole back to the chapel, and read from the same book, or indulged in the same quiet train of thought.  Even when night fell, she sat like one rooted to the spot until they found her there and took her home.  She looked pale but very happy, but as the schoolmaster stooped down to kiss her cheek, he thought he felt a tear upon his face.

From a village bachelor, who took great interest in the beautiful child, Nell soon learned the histories connected with every tomb and gravestone, with every gallery, wall, and crypt in the dim old church.  These she treasured in her mind, dwelling on them often in her thoughts and repeating them to those sightseers who cared to hear them.  Her duties were not arduous, but she did not regain her strength, and in her grandfather’s mind sprang up a solicitude about her which never left him.  From the time of his awakening to her weakness, never did he have any care for himself, any thought of his own comfort, which could distract his attention from the gentle object of his love and care, He would follow her up and down, waiting till she should tire, and lean upon his arm—­he would sit opposite