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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"


She smiled on him with a look of love unutterable.
"Mind," she said, holding out her arms feebly, but drawing him fast
to her bosom, "that this is how I love you! When you see me dull and
stupid, and I hardly look at you--for though death makes bright,
dying makes stupid--then say to yourself, 'This is not how she loves
me; it is only how she is dying! She loves me and knows it--and by
and by will be able to show it!'"
They were precious words both then and afterwards!
With some careful questioning, to satisfy himself that, so evidently
at the gate of death she yet knew perfectly her own mind,--and not
without some shakes of the head revealing disapprobation, the
minister did as he was requested, and wrote a certificate of the
fact, which was duly signed and witnessed.
And if he showed his disapproval yet more in the prayer with which
he concluded the ceremony, none but mistress Brookes showed
responsive indignation.
The bridegroom gave his bride one gentle kiss, and withdrew with the
clergyman.
"Pardon me if I characterize this as a strange proceeding!" said the
latter.
"Not so strange perhaps as it looks, sir!" said Donal.
"On the very brink of the other world!"
"The other world and its brink too are his who ordained marriage!"
"For this world only," said the minister.
"The gifts of God are without repentance," said Donal.


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