"Yes, my daughter, a rare night. Often have I seen such nights in this very spot, but never till to-night did their full joy enter my heart. My life was one long, terrible unreality. To-night the world is new, and full of loveliness and all peace."
Then he lay in long silence. The doctor came near, touched his wrist, listened to the beating of his heart, and whispered to his daughter, "It will not be long now."
The old man opened his eyes. "You are near, my daughter," he said.
"Yes, father, dear, I am here," she replied, pressing his hand between hers.
"Could you sing something, do you think?"
The girl drew in her breath sharply as with a sob of pain.
"No," said her father. "Never mind, my daughter. It is too much to ask."
"Yes, yes, father, I will sing. What shall I sing?"
"Sing Bernard's great hymn, 'The world is very evil.'"
It was a hymn she had often sung for him, selecting such of its verses as were more familiar, and as expressed more nearly the thought in their hearts.