With both hands pressed over her heart, Edna leaned heavily against the railing.

“To-morrow I go away for ever.  I shall never see his face again in this world.  Oh!  I want to look at it once more.”

As he stepped into the aisle, Mr. Murray threw his head back slightly, and his eyes swept up to the gallery and met hers.  It was a long, eager, heart-searching gaze.  She saw a countenance more fascinating than of old; for the sardonic glare had gone, the bitterness, “the dare-man, dare-brute, dare-devil” expression had given place to a stern mournfulness, and the softening shadow of deep contrition and manly sorrow hovered over features where scoffing cynicism had so long scowled.

The magnetism of St. Elmo’s eyes was never more marvellous than when they rested on the beautiful white face of the woman he loved so well, whose calm, holy eyes shone like those of an angel, as they looked sadly down at his.  In the mystic violet light with which the rich stained glass flooded the church, that pallid, suffering face, sublime in its meekness and resignation, hung above him like one of Perugino’s saints over kneeling mediaeval worshippers.  As the moving congregation bore him nearer to the door, she leaned farther over the mahogany balustrade, and a snowy crocus which she wore at her throat, snapped its brittle stem and floated down till it touched his shoulder.  He laid one hand over it, holding it there, and while a prayer burned in his splendid eyes, hers smiled a melancholy farewell.  The crowd swept the tall form forward, under the arches, beyond the fluted columns of the gallery, and the long gaze ended.

  “Ah! well for us all some sweet hope lies
   Deeply buried from human eyes;
   And in the hereafter, angels may
   Roll the stone from its grave away.”

CHAPTER XXXIV.

“I am truly thankful that you have returned!  I am quite worn out trying to humor Felix’s whims, and take your place.  He has actually lost ten pounds; and if you had staid away a month longer I think it would have finished my poor boy, who has set you up as an idol in his heart.  He almost had a spasm last week, when his father told him he had better reconcile himself to your absence, as he believed that you would never come back to the drudgery of the schoolroom.  I am very anxious about him; his health is more feeble than it has been since he was five years old.  My dear, you have no idea how you have been missed!  Your admirers call by scores to ascertain when you may be expected home; and I do not exaggerate in the least when I say that there is a champagne basketful of periodicals and letters upstairs, that have arrived recently.  You will find them piled on the table and desk in your room.”

“Where are the children?” asked Edna, glancing around the sitting-room into which Mrs. Andrews had drawn her.