and how he stood there, looking tranquilly at nothing while I, frightened, sobbed on his breast. ‘Lois,’ he said, smiling, ‘there is a bright company aloft, and watching me. Raphael and Titian are of them. And West will come some day.’ And, ‘God!’ he murmured, wonderingly, ‘What fellowship will be there! What knowledge to be acquired a half hour hence — and leave this petty sphere to its own vexed and petty wrangling, its kings and congresses, and its foolish noise of drums.’

“For a while he paid me no attention, save in an absent-minded way to pat my arm and say, ‘There, there, child! There’s nothing to it — no, not anything to weep for. In less than half an hour my wife and I will be together, listening while Raphael speaks — or Christ, perhaps, or Leonardo.’