“Do you remember the passage in Pilgrim's Progress, where the bells in heaven were ringing, over the river?” said Beatrice to them both.
“I do,” said Dawn, earnestly. “O, that we all were across that river. When shall we be there?”
“I suppose when our usefulness is most needed here,” said Basil, in a tone which caused them both to start.
“Why, brother?”
“Because that seems to be the law of life. All men and women go when most needed here; as the rose dies when its tinge is brightest, its blossom fullest.”
“And that is our time,” said Dawn.
“And God's,” he answered.
Dawn found on her dressing table that night a garland of lilies and red roses.
“Passion and purity,” she said. “O, this will do for human heads.” She laid long that night wondering whether Basil or his sister twined it. It did not seem like Beatrice, and yet she scarce thought he would do it. It lay between them, however, and pondering on that, and the day's keen enjoyment, she fell asleep, nor woke till morn.
Miss Bernard was very busy that day from necessity, she said, and partly to balance the state of the day previous.