and thus, dear girl, she kept herself from thinking even of the wretched Hero and Leander lines, till her clock struck three. Upstairs then to her own tower, and to look out upon the night. The sister flame was steady. The wind was all hushed. But the snow was as steady, right and left, behind and before. Down again, one more look at the darlings, and then, as she walked up and down her little kitchen, she repeated the verses she had learned, and then sat down to—
"You with your heavenly ray
Gild the expanse this day;
"You with your heavenly ray
Gild—the expanse—this day;
"You—with—your—heavenly—ray"—
Dear Laura, bless God, she is asleep. "He giveth his beloved sleep."
Her head is thrown back on the projecting wing of grandmamma's tall easy-chair, her arms are resting relaxed on its comfortable arms, her lips just open with a smile, as she dreams of something in the kingdom of God's heaven, when, as the lazy day just begins to grow gray, Tom, white with snow to his middle, holding the boat's lantern before him as he steals into her kitchen, crosses the room, and looks down on her,—what a shame to wake her,—bends down and kisses her!
Dear child! How she started,—"At midnight there is a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh,"—"Why, Tom! Oh! my dearest, is it you?"
"Have I been asleep on duty?" This was her first word when she came fairly to herself.