"Yes, Mr. Manning. If I should die in Europe, have my body brought back to America and carried to the South--my own dear South, that I love so well--and bury me close to Grandpa, where I can sleep quietly in the cool shadow of old Lookout; and be sure, please be sure, to have my name carved just below Grandpa's, on his monument. I want that one marble to stand for us both."
"I will. Is there nothing else?"
"Thank you, my dear, good, kind friend. Nothing else."
"Edna, promise me that you will take care of your precious life."
"I will try, Mr. Manning."
He looked down into her worn, weary face and sighed, then for the first time he took both her hands, kissed them and left her.
Swiftly the steamer took its way seaward; through the Narrows, past the lighthouse; and the wind sang through the rigging, and the purple hills of Jersey faded from view, proving Neversink a misnomer.
One by one the passengers went below and Edna and Felix were left on deck, with stars burning above, and blue waves bounding beneath them.
As the cripple sat looking over the solemn, moaning ocean, awed by its brooding gloom, did he catch in the silvery starlight a second glimpse of the rose-colored veils, and snowy vittae, and purple- edged robes of the Parcae, spinning and singing as they followed the ship across the sobbing sea? He shivered, and clasping tightly the hand of his governess, said: "Edna, we shall never see the Neversink again."
"God only knows, dear Felix. His will be done."
"How silvery the echoes run-- Thy will be done--Thy will be done."