them　till　the　morning。　This　done；　I　lingered　yet　a　little　longer：　the　flowers　smelt　so　sweet　as　the　dew　fell；　it　was　such　a　pleasant　evening；　so　serene；　so　warm；　the　still　glowing　west　promised　so　fairly　another　fine　day　on　the　morrow；　the　moon　rose　with　such　majesty　in　the　grave　east。　I　was　noting　these　things　and　enjoying　them　as　a　child　might；　when　it　entered　my　mind　as　it　had　never　done　before：—

“How　sad　to　be　lying　now　on　a　sick　bed；　and　to　be　in　danger　of　dying！　This　world　is　pleasant—it　would　be　dreary　to　be　called　from　it；　and　to　have　to　go　who　knows　where？”

And　then　my　mind　made　its　first　earnest　effort　to　prehend　what　had　been　infused　into　it　concerning　heaven　and　hell；　and　for　the　first　time　it　recoiled；　baffled；　and　for　the　first　time　glancing　behind；　on　each　side；　and　before　it；　it　saw　all　round　an　unfathomed　gulf：　it　felt　the　one　point　where　it　stood—the　present；　all　the　rest　was　formless　cloud　and　vacant　depth；　and　it　shuddered　at　the　thought　of　tottering；　and　plunging　amid　that　chaos。　While　pondering　this　new　idea；　I　heard　the　front　door　open；　Mr。　Bates　came　out；　and　with　him　was　a　nurse。　After　she　had　seen　him　mount　his　horse　and　depart；　she　was　about　to　close　the　door；　but　I　ran　up　to　her。

“How　is　Helen　Burns？”

“Very　poorly；”　was　the　answer。

“Is　it　her　Mr。　Bates　has　been　to　see？”

“Yes。”

“And　what　does　he　say　about　her？”

“He　says　she’ll　not　be　here　long。”

This　phrase；　uttered　in　my　hearing　yesterd