“I hardly comprehend.”
“As to what happens to the body—that is of little concern to me. I desire but one thing—to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.”
“Ah!—so—with Christ!”
Æmilius rubbed his chin.
“He is my Hope. He is my Salvation. In Him I shall live. Death is swallowed up in Victory.”
“She rambles in her talk,” said he, turning to the daughter.
“Nay, sir, she is clear in her mind and dwells on the thoughts that comfort her.”
“And that is not that she will have an expensive funeral?”
“Oh, no, sir!”
“Nor that she will have a commemorative cenotaph belauding her virtues?”