Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-04-05
prayer each time. against temptation and
the deyil's works.
CHAPTER XIX.

answered Sister Paul. sit is a sad story,
so far as have heard it. Her father is just
dead, and she is alone in the world. The
Abbess received letter yesterday from the
Cardinal Archbishop, requesting that we
would receive her. and this morning she
came. His Eminence knew her father, it
appears She is only to be here for short
time, believe, until her relations come to
take her home to her own country. Her
father was taken i'll in a country place near
the city, which he had hired for the shoot
ing season, and the poor girl was left all
alone out there. The Cardinal thought she
would be safer and perhaps less unhappy
with US while she is waiting"
"Of course" said Unorna, with a faint
interest. How old is she, poor child?"
''She is not a child--she must be five and
twenty years old, though perhaps her sor-
row makes her look older than she is. ="
And what is her name?"
"Beatrice-I cannot remember the name
OF her familv." Unorna started.
"What is ito" asked the nun, noticing
Cnorna's sudden movement.
"NOthinC-the name of Beatrice is
familiar 10 me, that is all. 1t suggested
something."
Though Sister Paul was as unworldly as
five and twenty wears of cloistered lite can
make a woman who is naturally simple in
mind and Gevout in thought, she possessed
that faculty OF quick observation which is
learned as readily and exercised, perhaps, as
constantly in the midst of a small COM
munity, where each member is in some
measure dependent upon all the rest for the
daily pitUance of ideas, as in wider spheres
of lie.
You may have seen this lady, or you
NAV have heard of her," she said.
Il would like TO see her." Unorna an
swered, thoughtfully.
She WAS thinking of all the possibilities
in the case. She remembered the clearness
and precision of the Wanderers first i'm
preston, when he first told her how he had
seen Beatrice in the Teyn Church, and she
reflected that the name was very uncom-
mon one. The Beatrice OF this story, too,
had father aud no other relation, and was
supposed to be travelling with him. By the
uncertain light in the corridor Unorna had
not been able TO distinguish the lady's feat
ures but the impression she had received
had been that she was dark, as Beatrice
WAS. There was no reason in the nature of
things why this should not be the woman
whom the Wauderer loved. 1t was natural
enough that being lett alone in a strange
city at such a moment, she should have
sought refuge in convent, and, this being
admitted, it followed that she would
naturally have been advised to retire TO the
one in W hich Unorna found herself, it being
the one in which ladies were most frequently
received as guests. Unorna could hardly
trust herself 10 speak. She was conscious
that 81 ter Paul was watching her, and she
turned her face from the lamp.
There can be no difficulty about your
hos +alL l. ,-ir = ;.f,
il, Fl" said the nun. "She told me that she
would be al Compllne at 9 o'clock. Ii YOU
will be there yourself, you can see her come
IN, and watch her when she goes out. Do
YOU think you have ever seen her?''
mo, " answered Unorna, in AZ odd tone,
81 am sure that 1 have not.'
Sister Paul concluded from Unorna's
manner that she must have reason TO believe
that the guest was identical with soma one
o. whom she had heard very often. Her
manner WAS abstraeteG, and she seemed i'll
at ease. But that might be the result of
fatigue.
Are you not hungry?" asked the nun.
'Eou have had nothing since you came, l
am sure"
"No-yes-it is true" answered Unorna.
4 had forgotten. Il would be very kind of
you 10 send me something"
Sister Paal rose with alacrity,to Unorna's
great relief.
Il will see to it," she SAID, holding out
her hand. I'VE shsll meet in the morning.
Good night"
Good might, dear Sister Paul. Will you
BY a prayer Tor me?" She added the ques-
tion suddenly, by an impulse of which she
was hardly conscious.
Indeed l will-witb all nv heart, NV
child, answered the nun, looking earnestly
Into her face. You are not happy in your
life" she added, with a slow, sad move
n!ent OF her head.
"No-I AIN not happy. But will be-"
81 fear not" said Sister Paul, almost un-
der her breath, as she went out softly.
UnOrna was LETT alone. She could not
sit still in her extreme anxiety. 1t was
agoniZIng TO think that the woman she
longed TO see was so near her, but that she
could not, upon any reasonable prete1t, go
and knock at her door and see her and
speak to her She felt also terrible doubt
as TO whether she would recognize her at
first sight as the same woman whose shadow
had passed between herself and the Wan
derer on that eventiul day a month ago.
The shadow had been veied, but she had a
prescient consciousness of the features be-
meath the veil. Nevertheless she might be
mistaken.
The lay sister went out. Unorna ate me-
what had been set before her,
and waited. She felt that crisis perhaps
more terrible than tina: through which she
had lately passed was at hand, if the stranger
should prove TO be indeed the Beatrice
whom the Wanderer loved. Her brain was
In a whirl when she thought of being
brought face to face with the woman who
had been before her, and every cruel and
ruthless instinct of her nature rose and took
shape in plans for her rivals destruction.
She opened her door, careless of the
draught of frozen air that rushed in from
the corridor. She wished to hear the ladv's
footstep when she left her room to go to the
church. and she sat down and remained
fearing lest her own football
should prevent the sound from reaching
her The heavy-toned bells began to ring,
far of in the night.
At last il came, the opening of door, the |
slight noise made by u tread upon the pave
ment She rose quietly and went out, fol- |
lowing in the same direction. She could |
see nothing but dark shadow moving be- |
tore her toward the opposite end of the
passage, farther and farther from the hang |
ing lamp. Unorna could hear her own |
heart beating as she followed first to the
right, then to the left. There was another
light at this point The lady had noticed |
that some one was coming behind her and |
turned her head 10 look back. The delicate, |
dark profile stood out clearly. Unorna |
held her breath, walking swiftly forward. |
But in a moment tine lady went on, and !
entered the ehapeI-iike room from which a |
great balcouied window looked down into |
the church above the choir As Unorna |
went in she saw her kneeling upon one of |
the stools, her hands folded, her head in |
ciined. her eyes closed, a black veil loosely |
thrown over ner still blacker hair and fall |
A.. IL l..