had characterized them.  From this little seed-corn which was then planted, the Moravians have spread out their branches into all parts of the world.  Let us remain faithful to the principles which united our forefathers; let us ever hold sacred the religion for the sake of which they suffered, and to which they firmly adhered, in spite of persecution and peril.  Hold fast brotherly love!  Forgive and bear with one another in love, sacrifice yourselves for love’s sake, suffer and die, in charity with all men,—­then are you true disciples of the Lord.  Amen!”

The preacher’s voice ceased, and the congregation devoutly echoed his “Amen.”  After a short pause the assembly broke up, with hearty hand-shakings and joyful greetings.  In little groups of twos and threes they rambled through the beautiful grounds where the loved ones were laid to rest.  The members of the fraternity, as they conversed in low but cheerful tones, bore a close resemblance to one another in the quiet simplicity of their attire.  There was no pretension to ornament or style; cleanliness seemed the only adornment sought for, and it certainly did reign supreme.  The women and girls wore small, close-fitting white caps, the different-colored ribbons on them distinguishing the various classes, and giving a very pleasing effect to the scene.  The wives were recognized by blue ribbons on their caps, and the widows by white, while the older girls wore pink and the younger ones bright red.  Gradually all returned to their homes in the valley below, where lay the thriving Moravian village.

One young girl, however, remained behind alone, lost in thought and quite unconscious that her companions had already taken their way homeward.  Leaning against one of the large linden-trees, whose ancient trunk completely screened her slim figure, she stood, looking downward on the beautiful landscape which lay before her admiring eyes.  Mountain and valley, forest and field, were bathed in the golden sunshine.  Nothing was yet in bloom, but in every swelling bud there seemed to lie a foreshadowing of coming glory.

“Sister Carmen, hast thou not noticed that thy companions have returned with their elders, and that thou art left alone?” suddenly asked a deep masculine voice at her side.

She involuntarily shrank back, as if from fear—­was it because she was alone, or was she only startled from her dreaming?—­and looked timidly at the speaker.  He was a man well advanced in years; his hair partially gray, but his complexion retaining much of its youthful freshness and color; and there was some difficulty in determining his age.  Although his brow was thoughtful and his grave eyes habitually looked upward with an expression of calm serenity and humble piety, yet the curve of his mouth, around which there lurked a peculiar smile, contradicted the idea of sanctity.

“Have they really left me, Brother Jonathan?  I had entirely forgotten how time was passing, in the tumult of joyful feelings which filled my heart,” said the girl with a sunny smile.