harp wolf, or wolf Sharp, got in there would be
mischief astir. He must leap after, for, to a Catholic, his religion was
more than meat or drink, and he would become naturally a friend to him
who was friendly to his religion.

Althea had but rarely been inside a Catholic church. When a child she
had been more than once to St. Patrick's, with her uncle and cousins,
during a temporary absence of her aunt. She had been partial to the
Episcopal service; but as there was no society of this sect at Windsor,
she had very often followed her husband's example of remaining at home
on Sundays; though sometimes she attended at the different
denominational houses, as inclination urged, or some stranger, man or
woman, preached.

Upon this occasion Althea was peculiarly impressed; not so much by the
blaze of light, the brightness and perfume of flowers, nor by the
commanding attitude of the aged missioner, who stood grasping the
mission cross and about to speak. It was the sudden memory of her uncle,
John Temple, who so loved and practiced this same religion that touched
her soul. He came before her, in all his simple, unpretending honesty
and truth. Never so much, as at this moment, had she appreciated his
worth. She did, indeed, bow her head with reverence before the altar,
not in obedience to her husband's commands, but in tribute to her
uncle's memory. She had named her only child his unforgotten name, and
now the child had joined him in the spirit-world. The two came before
her like phantoms evoked. Were they, indeed, hovering around her in this
sacred place? Such was Althea's impression, and how guilty felt she
before them! Still more lowly bowed her unworthy head, and pressing her
clasped hands to her heart, she cried, "O God, be merciful to me a
sinner!"

There was a hush in the swaying crowd, for the priest was about to
speak. He had stood during several minutes, until even the latest seemed
to have arrived; then, in the general silence of expectation, his voice
sounded clear and full and his words were: "O God, be merciful to me a
sinner!"

Such an unexpected echo of her own unbreathed words startled Althea like
an electric shock. For a moment she raised her head, and her drooping
eyes fell upon the utterer of that broken-hearted prayer. Then upon the
clasped hands fell again the white forehead, nor was it lifted more
until after an hour or two of stirring eloquence the missioner closed
with a repetition of his opening