The bed
had not been disturbed, and the book from which she had read to him, was
lying thereon, opened at those beautiful verses of "The Iris of the
Deep," which he loved so well to hear her read. What could it mean?
Calmly her breath came and went; but for that she appeared like a
beautiful piece of statuary, her eyes turned upward, as if seeking for
strength to meet the vague sense of desolation which was creeping into
her heart. Upon the table were two notes, one addressed to her mother,
the other to herself, in his hand-writing. With nerveless hand she broke
the seal; no emotion was visible, save the delicate glow upon her cheek,
which came and went, and the playing of the muscles about her compressed
lips, as she read the following:
"My Sister--When you read this, I shall be far away, sailing over those
glorious billows which you and I love so well! You will miss me, for I
know you love your erring brother, with all his faults; and even you,
who can realize what were my heart's desires, will hardly forgive the
step which brings such deep grief upon our mother; yet you will think of
me with kindness, for I know it cannot be otherwise.
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