t.'

It was indeed almost evening twilight in the streets, though the
graceful freestone spires to a depth of about twenty feet from their
summits were still dyed with the orange tints of a vanishing sun. The
two relatives dined privately as usual, after which Paula looked out
of the window of her room, and reflected upon the events of the day. A
tower rising into the sky quite near at hand showed her that some church
or other stood within a few steps of the hotel archway, and saying
nothing to Mrs. Goodman, she quietly cloaked herself, and went out
towards it, apparently with the view of disposing of a portion of a dull
dispiriting evening. The church was open, and on entering she found
that it was only lighted by seven candles burning before the altar of a
chapel on the south side, the mass of the building being in deep
shade. Motionless outlines, which resolved themselves into the forms
of kneeling women, were darkly visible among the chairs, and in the
triforium above the arcades there was one hitherto unnoticed radiance,
dim as that of a glow-worm in the grass. It was seemingly the effect of
a solitary tallow-candle behind the masonry.

A priest came in, unlocked the door of a confessional with a click which
sounded in the silence, and entered it; a woman followed, disappeared
within the curtain of the same, emerging again in about five minutes,
followed by the priest, who locked up his door with another loud click,
like a tradesman full of business, and came down the aisle to go out.
In the lobby he spoke to another woman, who replied, 'Ah, oui, Monsieur
l'Abbe!'

Two women having spoken to him, there could be no harm in a third doing
likewise. 'Monsieur l'Abbe,' said Paula in French, 'could you indicate
to me the stairs of the triforium?' and she signified her reason for
wishing to know by pointing to the glimmering light above.

'Ah, he is a friend of yours, the Englishman?' pleasantly said the
priest, recognizing her nationality; and taking her to a little door he
conducted her up a stone staircase, at the top of which he showed her
the long blind story over the aisle arches which led round to where the
light was. Cautioning her not to stumble over the uneven floor, he left
her and descended. His words had signified that Somerset was here.

It was a gloomy place enough that she found herself in, but the seven
candles below on the opposite altar, and a faint sky light from the
clerestory, lent enough rays t