"When my spirit parted from my body, it remained a while irresolute
whither to go. But then, remembering that my aunt had declared that I
never would go to Heaven, I resolved on forcing my way in there out of
defiance; and I soared till I reached the gates of Paradise. At them
stood an angel with a fiery sword drawn in his hand, and he laid it
athwart the entrance. I approached, but he waved me off, and when the
point of the flaming blade touched my heart, there passed a pang through
it, I know not whether of joy or of sorrow. And he said: 'Letice, you
have not been a good girl; you were sullen, resentful, rebellious, and
therefore are unfit to enter here. Your longings through life, and to
the moment of death, were for the world and its pomps and vanities. The
last throb of your heart was given to repining for them. But your faults
were due largely to the mistakes of your rearing. And now hear your
judgment. You shall not pass within these gates till you have returned
to earth and partaken of and had your fill of its pomps and vanities. As
for that old cat, your aunt'--but no, Betty, he did not say quite that;
I put it in, and I ought not to have done so. I bear her no resentment;
I wish her no ill. She did by me what she believed to be right. She
acted towards me up to her lights; alas for me that the light which was
in her was darkness! The angel said: 'As for your aunt, before she can
enter here, she will want illumining, enlarging, and sweetening, and
will have to pass through Purgatory.' And oh, Betty, that will be gall
and bitterness to her, for she did not believe in Purgatory, and she
wrote a controversial pamphlet against it. Then said the angel: 'Return,
return to the pomps and vanities.' I fell on my knees, and said: 'Oh,
suffer me but to have one glimpse of that which is within!' 'Be it so,'
he replied. 'One glimpse only whilst I cast my sword on high.' Thereat
he threw up the flaming brand, and it was as though a glorious flash of
lightning filled all space. At the same moment the gates swung apart,
and I saw what was beyond. It was but for one brief moment, for the
sword came down, and the angel caught it by the handle, and instantly
the gates were shut. Then, sorrowfully, I turned myself about and went
back to earth. And, Betty, it was I who took and read your novels. It
was I who went to Lady Belgrove's ball in your place. It was I who sat
instead of you at Her Majesty's and heard _Carmen_. It was I who took
your place at Henley Regatta, and I--I, instead of you, received the
protestation of Charles Fontanel's affection, and there in the
boat-house I received the first and last kiss of love. And it was I,
Betty, as I have told you, who took your place at the altar to-day. I
had the pleasures that were designed for you--the ball-dress, the
dances, the fair words, the music of the opera, the courtship, the
excitement of the regatta, the reading of sensational novels. It was I
who had what all girls most long for, their most supreme bliss of
wearing the wedding-veil and the orange-blossoms. But I have reached my
limit. I am full of the pomps and vanities, and I return on high. You
will see me no more."
"Oh, Letice," said Betty, obtaining her speech, "you do not grudge me
the joys of life?"
The fair white being at her side shook her head.
"And you desire no more of the pomps and vanities?"
"No, Betty. I have looked through the gates."
Then Betty put forth her hands to clasp the waist of her sister, as she
said fervently--
"Tell me, Letice, what you saw beyond."
"Betty--everything the reverse of Salem Chapel."