"Think of the heartache she must have had." Something in the deep feeling of this gentle girl touched a chord in my benumbed heart.

My eyes, before so dry, were flooded with the tears that had till now refused to come.

When I had regained my composure, I saw that she too had been weeping freely.
"God bless your tender heart," I said.

"Would you like to see her picture ?" A small locket with Edith Bartlett's picture, secured about my neck with a gold chain, had lain upon my breast all through that long sleep, and removing this I opened and gave it to my companion.

She took it with eagerness, and after poring long over the sweet face, touched the picture with her lips.
"I know that she was good and lovely enough to well deserve your tears," she said; "but remember her heartache was over long ago, and she has been in heaven for nearly a century." It was indeed so.