Wyseby

40 WYSEBY : A LEGEND
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HEREDITARY FOES.
Pleasant it is, my child, at evening to contem-
plate the past day, — its work all done — plans con-
ceived — plans reduced to action — their results
visible, or becoming dimly visible. How the soul
exults in its strength ! But pleasanter, oh! pleasanter
far, when the working day of life has closed, and its
sunny, contemplative evening begun, thus to dwell
upon the work of that long day, waiting only for the
approval of the Great Master, who comes at night-
fall. But not thus pleasant isat looking back, to the
souls who have not conquered sorrow, — who have
not detached themselves from the past, — who have
not discovered that though they erewhile worked
there, and though their works still exist there,
Avorking, yet that they themselves are not of the
past — are separated from it, waiting to be further
separated.
While the chief of the Irvings and his sister were
conversing : in the distant keep of Holemains, in an
antique chamber, sat a grey warrior and a gentle
maiden. A proud-looking old man that warrior,
with long white hair falling over his broad shoulders,
clear blue eyes, high aquiline features ; a command-
ing, decisive, yet mild-looking old man. 'Twas the
heroic chief of the Carrutherses. And that fair
maiden — his flower of beauty that, — the pride of his