The Delawarean., 1900-09-15
ROMANCE OF THE CATHEDRAL

The musical festival was over. Still a
few fingered. A clergyman, obviously a
stranger, came from the ambulatory,
crossed the transept, traversed the nave,
and, turning with leisurely step, passed
through n narrow doorway out of the
cathedral into the cloisters.
In the arches opposite he discerned fig
ure through the antique mullions, clad in a
fashionable dress. Her face was up
raised in prolonged appreciation of the
grandeur of the architecture, which is
nowhere more picturesque than in the
view obtainable through the silence and
gloom of the cloisters.
But he was intent on the architecture
no longer The strains of Mendelssohn
ceased to haunt his ears. All he was aware
of now was a keenly human and strange
ly unaccorlntable interest in the solitary
lady whose face was framed under the
trefoils and quatrefoils of the old incrust-
ed tracery. 1t was her face mingling
with the stern shadows and dark mold
ings that now made those hoary flowers
of blackened stone blossom into new life.
Although unconscious of the interest he
took in her. his eyes instinctively follow
ed her as she passed along the cloisters
from arch to arch, pausing now and
again to contemplate through the lace
work of Gothic stone some weather worn
cross or the grotesque fancy which some
monkish sculptor had wrought in gar
goyle OF final. He watched her pass to
the door of the transept. 1t was locked
He heard her cndcavafs upen tile clanl-
ing iron, heard her light footballs as she
again descended into the cloistcr and saw
her approaching the arcade. whore ho sat
obscure in the shadow
He rose and went toward her.
"The door By which l cu,esod is locl;-
ed" she said. "Will you tell re the way
outY
Through the south gate he replied
studying her face attentively. Il will
show you. Come"
He took hold of the heavy ring handle
and tried to turn the lock. "The gate is
closed" he said, "and the other too.
Then fear''-
"We are not locked in?" she exclaimed
anxiously.
81 don't know. l have never been in
the cathedral before. came here to the
festival"
"Oh," she rejoined, "has it not been
glorious, superb, magnifcent?'
superb, you say. Yes, and magnif-
cent. Never have heard Mendelssohn's S
Hymn of Praise so finely rendered. But
one thing was lacking"
"What was thatY
Devotion, religion, the sense of sac
rifce, the presence of the ? .rit of God.
II know your meaning" she responded
earnestly. "The monks of old, when they
chanted early mass while the common
workday people knelt on the bare stone,
remained to pray and to penance or went
to fast
'True. And where have all these tick
ct holders gone? To dance and to dine. .
His lip curled contemptuously.
yet, after all, we would not wish the
middle ages back again." she reflected
"The superstition, the iniquity"-
II heard her." he continued inconse
quently, yet continuing the same thought
on another line, 'that beautiful soprano
Her voice was like an ANGELS"
She blushed and, looking round, moved
uneasily.
"Can we not get out?" she asked.
eve must find a door," he stammered
"Excuse my-my abrupt confidence. In
truth, am under her spell. But listen
know my folly. Whose is this voice
Her name was in the programme-Luini
1t was Luini, a singer, probably at the
opera; a certain draw with the aid per
haps of a ballet. AS likely as not she
plays the heroine in Don Giovanna.'
"She does nothing of the kind" sale
the lady fatty.
"Ha! You know her then?"
"No-yes. At least-that is" she STAN
mered blushing. 81 know something o.
her."
81 recognize you," he exclaimed sud
denly. "Your voice is hers. You are, yol
must be Luini."
BE it So" she replied 'but tell me
why are the clergy so hard upon thu
singer? Do you know what / thought il
that old, hallowed choir? AS you do.
l could live in an age when we womei
might be servants of the sanctuary, or
dained to the Most High; if l nigh
so devote myself to service-ah, how
could sing then"
He stood electrified.
"But am a woman" she added sadly
II cannot dedicate my life to the church.
"There is one way" he replied, will
quiet emphasis, as he laid his hand oil
. hers. "Believe me- there is no noble
in the parish has greater scope for iniu
encing the lives of men than the vica
himself. The career has its humdrun
side-Dorcas meetings, parish missions
and afternoon calls-but life is made VI
of everyday affairs, and a consecrateC
life is but the ennobling of common
things"
"Of what do you speak? l do not un
derstand."
"You heard my declaration, how yon
voice moved me. knew not then t,
whom spoke. Have | stumbled by 600,
fortune on my destiny, or, pather-let M
say it reverently-has the providence o
God given your life to mneY'
She looked up-looked long into hi
manly resolute face Then she faltere,
in an agitated voice: 81 cannot answer
l cannot think. Take me from here"
"Ony to cloister you in my soul" h
answered in a fervent whisper as h
drew her to his heart.-London Illustrat
ed News.
A Good Return.
That habits of courtesy harm no on