appeared; but it was rumoured that the authorities knew where he was, and that he did not go unpunished, though the affair was hushed up without coming to a public trial. My friends with their remaining child left Italy and settled in Paris. Maria's fate remains a mystery. I asked Monsieur de Chimay to endeavour to find out something relative to her, but you heard him say his efforts were not very successful."

I was given to understand she was safe," said the Prince. "Nor is it likely she will get out of the keeping she is in. The honour of a high name is connected with the secret she holds. There is little likelihood of the woman's ever coming forward into the world to betray it."

The story is much more fitted for the Middle Ages," said Kate, "than for these our peaceful nineteenth century days. What an awful picture of life it is!"

"What a consummate scoundrel that brother was! I hope he did not get off," said Hugh.

"Don't be uneasy about him," said the Prince; "the secret police of Rome is not the less deadly for being still in its movements. This upper crust of the earth will never, you may be assured, be graced with his presence again."

"Ugh!" said Hugh, "the story is an ugly one-enough to injure one's digestion, the bare recapitulation of it. I'll go and have a ride to take the feel off."

This broke up the sitting for the day.

"In the vast Abbey where the sunbeams darted Into the soft grey gloom with slanting rays,

We sate in peaceful silence, yet full-hearted,

And mused awhile of holiness and praise."-Page 525.

A GOLDEN HOUR.

BY SARAH DOUDNEY.

THE golden sun lay warm on yellow gorses,
Out on wide breezy commons far away;
And flashed upon the shining watercourses,
Where all the banks were bright with flowery May.

Deep in the hearts of forests green and mazy
The sunshine nestled 'mid the plumy ferns,
Shedding a gentle radiance mild and hazy,-
That fair dream-light for which the spirit yearns.

They were far off, those sunny rural places,
For near us was the City with its din,
And its great crowd of worn and weary faces,
Bearing too oft the stamp of grief and sin.

Yet there was shade for us, and quiet gladness;
A calm, sweet rest amid the noontide heat,
A shelter from the great world and its sadness,
A haven from the tide of hurrying feet.

In the vast Abbey where the sunbeams darted
Into the soft grey gloom with slanting rays,
We sate in peaceful silence, yet full-hearted,
And mused awhile of holiness and praise.

Above us on the old stone arches rested

A dreamy tint from coloured windows cast,
Soft as the hues of violets purple-breasted,
Dim as those sunset gleams that fade so fast.

Down the long aisles we watched the stray beams wander,
Where the dark shadows forth to meet them crept
From the still tombs on which we gazed, to ponder
On the old stories of the saints that slept.

They fought as we do now, with secret sorrows;
Their path, as ours, lay 'midst life's vales and heights;
They had their golden days with dark to-morrows,
Their joyful mornings and their weeping nights.

Like us they loved,—like us they felt the pressing
Of clasping hands that must unclasp for aye;
Their lips, like ours, exchanged the kiss and blessing,
And spoke those final words so hard to say.

They wait in peace the Resurrection glory,
While we must linger here a little while;
Ours is the strife, the uncompleted story,
Theirs is the rest in yonder shadowy aisle.

O blessed rest! O slumber consecrated

By the broad shadows of God's house around!
O happy end for those who toiled and waited,
To sleep within the ancient Abbey's bound!

We thank Thee, Father, for the calm protection
Of Thy dear Church,-safe guarded by Thine hand;
We seek her walls with reverent affection,

The Rock's great shadow in a weary land.

Keep Thou her sanctuaries pure and stainless,
Be Thou her shield, her never-failing guide;

Preserve her grand old creeds, unchecked and chainless,
And O come quickly, Jesu, to Thy Bride.

Our golden hour was ended, and we hasted
Back to the world; and parted after this
With purer, calmer hearts, for having tasted
That one deep draught of quietness and bliss.