aturally
interested in all that concerns her."

Again the searching eyes of the religieuse surveyed me; she sighed
slightly.

"I am aware of the connection between you," she said, in rather a
pained tone. "Nina Romani belongs to the world, and follows the ways of
the world. Of course, marriage is the natural fulfillment of most young
girls' destinies, there are comparatively few who are called out of the
ranks to serve Christ. Therefore, when Nina married the estimable Count
Romani, of whom report spoke ever favorably, we rejoiced greatly,
feeling that her future was safe in the hands of a gentle and wise
protector. May his soul rest in peace! But a second marriage for her is
what I did not expect, and what I cannot in my conscience approve. You
see I speak frankly."

"I am honored that you do so, madame!" I said, earnestly, feeling a
certain respect for this sternly composed yet patient-featured woman;
"yet, though in general you may find many reasonable objections to it,
a second marriage is I think, in the Countess Romani's case almost
necessary. She is utterly without a protector--she is very young and
how beautiful!"

The nun's eyes grew solemn and almost mournful.

"Such beauty is a curse," she answered, with emphasis; "a fatal--a
fearful curse! As a child it made her wayward. As a woman it keeps her
wayward still. Enough of this, signor!" and she bowed her head; "excuse
my plain speaking. Rest assured that I wish you both happiness."

We had by this time reached the door of the chapel, through which the
sound of the pealing organ poured forth in triumphal surges of melody.
Mere Marguerite dipped her fingers in the holy water, and signing
herself with the cross, pointed out a bench at the back of the church
as one that strangers were allowed to occupy. I seated myself, and
looked with a certain soothed admiration at the picturesque scene
before me. There was the sparkle of twinkling lights--the bloom and
fragrance of flowers. There were silent rows of nuns blue-robed and
white-veiled, kneeling and absorbed in prayer. Behind these a little
cluster of youthful figures in black, whose drooped heads were entirely
hidden in veils of flowing white muslin. Behind these again, one
woman's slight form arrayed in heavy mourning garments; her veil was
black, yet not so thick but that I could perceive the sheeny glitter of
golden hair--that was my wife, I knew. Pious angel! how devout she
looked! I smiled in dreary sc