spacious ante-room; the lower part of the
walls was covered with arras, leaving space for a niche that contained an
image of the Virgin. Near the doorway to the oratory, was the stoupe or
aspersorium for holy-water; and in various cysts and crypts, in either
room, were caskets containing the relics of saints. The purple light
from the stained glass of a high narrow window, shaped in the Saxon arch,
streamed rich and full over the Queen's bended head like a glory, and
tinged her pale cheek, as with a maiden blush; and she might have
furnished a sweet model for early artist, in his dreams of St. Mary the
Mother, not when, young and blest, she held the divine infant in her
arms, but when sorrow had reached even the immaculate bosom, and the
stone had been rolled over the Holy Sepulchre. For beautiful the face
still was, and mild beyond all words; but, beyond all words also, sad in
its tender resignation.

And thus said the Queen to her godchild:

"Why dost thou hesitate and turn away? Thinkest thou, poor child, in
thine ignorance of life, that the world ever can give thee a bliss
greater than the calm of the cloister? Pause, and ask thyself, young as
thou art, if all the true happiness thou hast known, is not bounded to
hope. As long as thou hopest, thou art happy."

Edith sighed deeply, and moved her young head in involuntary
acquiescence.

"And what is life to the nun, but hope. In that hope, she knows not the
present, she lives in the future; she hears ever singing the chorus of
the angels, as St. Dunstan heard them sing at the birth of Edgar [114].
That hope unfolds to her the heiligthum of the future. On earth her body,
in heaven her soul!"

"And her heart, O Lady of England?" cried Edith, with a sharp pang.

The Queen paused a moment, and laid her pale hand kindly on Edith's
bosom.

"Not beating, child, as thine does now, with vain thoughts, and worldly
desires; but calm, calm as mine. It is in our power," resumed the Queen,
after a second pause, "it is in our power to make the life within us all
soul; so that the heart is not, or is felt not; so that grief and joy
have no power over us; so that we look tranquil on the stormy earth, as
yon image of the Virgin, whom we make our example, looks from the silent
niche. Listen, my godchild and darling."

"I have known human state, and human debasement. In these halls I woke
Lady of England, and, ere sunset, my lord banished me, without one mark
of hono