"Sweet Ivarene, do you ever ponder on what eternity means for us, now we have its secret?—a limitless succession of life in all its phases; that the grave is only the door to life again, when we can choose another birth—passing through all the freshening scenes of infancy and youth; growing up again as boy and girl; seeking each other out for another union like this, where we shall always recognize each other, but forget the old life,—it is this which gives hope and zest to this happy day; for we know that we shall really never be separated."
"We will pass a happy life together, my love; and from out our abundance we can sweeten the lives of many others who have not been blessed with great riches," he continued, in a tender tone.
"Yes, dear Bruce, and the treasure of Monteluma should be dedicated to charity alone, for we have enough without it," she replied; then, pointing to a newly-sodded grave at the foot of the lawn—a mound that was marked by a marble slab on which only was engraved,
"BRUCE AND IVARENE,"
she continued, with a smile of ineffable peace on her beaming face: "That is for the eyes of the world, dear Bruce; but we know that we are they, only masquerading under the names of Mora and Clifford."
At that moment Maud, Ralph, Hugh, and Grace came on to the terrace above, and Hugh, in a voice husky with emotion, said:—
"Come, Mora and Clifford, the minister waits."
Tarrying a moment, while the others moved on along the terrace, the happy pair stood gazing out over the tranquil valley, then, drawing aside her veil, which trailed liked a mist down over her robe of glistening satin, white as a snow-drift, she raised a radiant face to his, and said:—
"My Bruce, we live again—we live again!"
Stooping, while their lips met, he murmured:—