"Had worked their pleasure out of pain,
And out of ruin golden gain."
And as they talked in the splendid room, with its sweet odors and dim
light, their voices grew lower, and they were content to whisper each
other's names, and fall into sweet silences, thrilled with such soft
stir, as angels in their cloud-girt wayfarings know, when they "feel the
breath of kindred plumes." And thus,
"The tumult of the time disconsolate,
To inarticulate murmurs died away."
OTHER BOOKS BY MRS. BARR
Jan Vedder's Wife
The Bow of Orange Ribbon
Remember the Alamo
Friend Olivia
A Rose of a Hundred Leaves
The Lion's Whelp
The Black Shilling
The Belle of Bowling Green
Cecilia's Lovers
The Heart of Jessy Laurie
The Strawberry Handkerchief
The Hands of Compulsion
The House on Cherry Street
ETC.