CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET 



our Godfrey's grave, youth vindicated its own right 

 to happiness; and we felt that we did wrong to visit 

 too often that corner in the kirkyard. No fears had 

 we of any too oblivious tendencies; in our dreams we 

 saw him — most often all alive as ever — sometimes a 

 phantom away from that grave ! If the morning light 

 was frequently hard to be endured, bursting suddenly 

 upon us along with the feeling that he was dead, it 

 more frequently cheered and gladdened us with resig- 

 nation, and sent us forth a fit playmate to the dawn 

 that rang with all sounds of joy. Again we found 

 ourselves angling down the river, or along the loch — 

 once more following the flight of the Falcon along 

 the woods — eying the Eagle on the Echo-cliff. Days 

 passed by, without so much as one thought of Emil- 

 ius Godfrey — pursuing our pastime with all our pas- 

 sion, reading our books intently — just as if he had 

 never been! But often and often, too, we thought 

 we saw his figure coming down the hill straight to- 

 wards us — his very figure — we could not be deceived 

 — but the love-raised ghost disappeared on a sudden 

 — the grief-woven spectre melted into the mist. The 

 strength, that formerly had come from his counsels, 

 now began to grow up of itself within our own un- 

 assisted being. The world of nature became more our 

 own, moulded and modified by all our own feelings 

 and fancies; and with a bolder and more original eye 

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