The graves were covered with richly-hued autumn flowers; all was sweet, calm, restful.

There was none of earth's fever here.

The tall gray spire of the church rose toward, the clear blue sky.
Lord Charlewood stood looking around him in silence.
"I have seen such a scene in pictures," he said.

"I have read of such in poems, but it is the first I have really beheld.

If my darling could have chosen for herself, she would have preferred to rest here." On the western slope, where the warmest and brightest sun beams lay, under the shade of the rippling lime-trees, they laid Lady Charlewood to rest.