Page:Romance & Reality 3.pdf/207

Rh the branch of a huge cork-tree that passed across, and the heavy folds of the purple curtains—a purple almost black—the light was nearly excluded. On one side of the room was a large coffer, whose carving was worn smooth and shining with time; and on the other was a cumbrous book-case, filled with large and silver-clasped tomes. The only other articles of furniture were a small table, and a heavy, high-backed chair, covered with black serge. On the table lay an illuminated missal and a silver crucifix. The Abbess herself was seated in the chair—pale, abstracted, and with features whose expression, in repose at least, was severe. The door opened; a bright gleam of sunshine shot into the room, but darkened instantly as the porteress admitted the visitor. The Abbess rose not from her seat, but motioned with her hand to the stool beside her. "A stranger and a foreigner," said she, turning a gaze rather earnest than curious on her evidently embarrassed guest. "What dost thou seek from the servant of the Madonna?" A moment's silence intervened, which was broken by the stranger's kneeling beside her. "I come for refuge." The voice, though