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Rh The sky, where the passionate hues of sunset had faded into a clear cold blue—the noiseless leaves, which drooped from the heavy branches—the ancient pile, where the ivy hung undisturbed—the stillness, unbroken by a sound—all seemed to whisper to my soul, 'Here is rest.'

"I entered the chapel, and above the altar hung a picture of the Virgin. A gleam of light came from a western window, and fell upon the face of my Beatrice! Her face—but calm, beautiful, and unearthly. I met the radiant eyes turned towards me, and they looked pardon and peace. For the first time I hid my brow in my hands, and wept bitterly; and it was as if these tears washed away the weight which had oppressed me. I looked up again, and still met that sweet look of hope and love. A longing for death seemed to take possession of me; or, if I could not die, to assimilate life to death as much as possible. All the busy concerns of daily existence were utterly abhorrent to me. I loathed the sound of others' voices—I hated to be mixed up with their petty routine of ordinary cares; here was an asylum offered to me—here I might lay down all the offices of humanity, and dwell beside that grave whose rest was now my only desire.

"To-morrow I take the vows of La Trappe—