The Fort Worth gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-189?, 1891-04-30

pressed was OF earth and not Ct heaven Il
was not transparent, for thsre was life in
every feature, il WAS sad. indeed. si,rost
beyond human sadness. but il was sad with
the mortal sorrows OF this world, not with
the unfathomable melancholy of the suffer
ing saint. The lips were human, womanly
pure aud tender, but not formed for speech
OF prayer alone The drooping lips. not
drawn. but Garkened with faint uneven
shadows by the flow of many tears. We're
slowly lifted now and again. disclosing
vision OF black eyes not meant for endless
weeping, nor made so deep and warm only
to strain their sight toward heaven above.
forgetting earth below. Unorna knew that
those same eyes could CLEAN, and flash,
and blaze, with love and hate and anger,
that under the rich, pale skin, the blood
could rise and ebb with the changing tide
OF the heart, that the warm lips could part
with passion. and. moving, form words of
love. she saw pride in the wide. sensitive
nostrils, strength in the even brow and
queenly dignity in the perfect poise OF the
head upon the slender throat. And the
clasped hands We're womanly, too, neither
full and white and heavy like those of a
marble statue as Cnorna's were, nor thin
and over-sensitive, like those of holy
women in old pictures. but real and living,
delicate in outline. but not without nervous
strength, hands that might iinger in an
OLlIct -, upL Wholly passive, DNI jill IT'S pOu-
Sive to the thrill of 4 loving touch.
II was very hard to bear. 4 better
woman than Unorna might have felt some
thing evil and cruel and hating in her heart
at the sight OF so much beauty in one who
held her place, in the queen of the kingdom
where she lOnged to reign. Unorna's cheek
grew very pale and her unlike eyes We're
fierce and dangerous. 1t was well for her
that she could not speak to Beatrice then,
for she wore no mask and the dark beauty
would have seen the danger of death in the
face of the fair. and would have turned and
defended herself in time.
But the sweet singing of the nuns came
softly up from below, echoing TO the groined
roof. rising and falling, high and low. and
the full radiance of the many waXen taperS
shown steadily from the great altar, Gid
ing and warming statue and cornice and an
Gent moulding and casting deep shadows
into all the places that it could not reach.
And still the two women knelt in their high
balcony, the one rapt in fervent prayer the
other wondering that the presence OF such
hatred as hers should have no power to
kill, and all the time making 4 supreme eff
fort to compose her own features into the
expression of friendly sympathy anu inter
est which she knew she would need. so soon
as the singing ceased and it was time to
leave the church again.
The psalms We're finished. There was
pause, ana then the words OF the ancient
hymn tiOated up 10 Unornas ears, familiar
in years gone by. Almost unconsciously
she herself, by force of old habit, joined in
the first verse. Then, suddenly. she
stopped, not realizing, indeed. the horrible
gulf that lay between the words that passed
her lips and the thoughts that were at work
in her heart. but silenced by the near sound
OF q voice less rich and full, but far more
exquisite and tender than her owrH Beat
rice was singing, too, with joined hands,
and parted lips and upturned face.
''............ pro tua elemental,
Sis praesul ct custodia.
Procut recedant somnia,
Eft noctium phantasmae:
Hostem que noStrum comprime ..."
Let dreams be far, and phantasms of the
night-bind thou our foe, = sang Beatrice in
long. sweet notes.
Unorna heard no more The light dazzled
her and the blood beat in her heart II
seemed as though no prayer that was ever
prayed could be offered up more directly
against herself, and the voice that sang it,
though not loud. had the rare power of car
rying every syllable distinctly in its magic
tones, even to great distance. As she
knelt. it was as if Beatrice had been ever
nearer, and had breathed the words into
her very ear. Afraid to look around lest
her face should betray her emotion, Unorna
glanced down at the kneeling nuns She
started. Sister Paul, alone of them all,
was looking up, her faded eyes fixed on
Cnorna's with a look that implored and yet
despaired, her clasped hands a little raised
from the low desk before her, most evil
IDENTIFY offering up the words with the whole