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"And I feel just as if he had gone quietly to bed," says At the farthest end of the room, near a window, lying back in an arm-chair, lies Mona, sound asleep. The next day Scarface went on again, stopping now and then to rest and to pick berries, and when night came he was at the bear's lodge..

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"Lie down: you will hurt yourself again," she says, trying gently to induce him to return to his former recumbent position; but he resists her. "Listen to me," he goes on, in a lower key, and with some slight signs of exhaustion. "I am glad to die,—unfeignedly glad: therefore rejoice with me! Why should you waste a tear on such as I am? Do you remember how I told you (barely two hours ago) that my life had come to an end where other fellows hope to begin theirs? I hardly knew myself how prophetic my words would prove." "Then I will sing you a song I was sent last week," says Mona, and forthwith sings him "Years Ago," mournfully, pathetically, and with all her soul, as it should be sung. Then she gives him "London Bridge," and then "Rose-Marie," and then she takes her fingers from the piano and looks at him with a fond hope that he will see fit to praise her work. "Yes, of course," she says, dejectedly. A cloud seems to have fallen upon her happy hour. "When did you hear that—that last singer?" she asks, in a subdued voice..