The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. The other individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed from the stranger's view. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it. “Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. . "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point.
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