ut of the resistance to his
perfidious folly sprang the English Parliament.

Having mentioned now the most important of the convent buildings, I
shall conclude my stories by telling about the monuments to be seen
in the Abbey.

THE MAGIC MUSIC AND ITS MESSAGE.

A FAIRY STORY.

"It was the nightingale singing to the rose," said the girl, bending
over the flowers. "I heard it all through the night, when the moon
was shining into my room."

"No, it was not."

[Illustration: "SHE STRETCHED OUT HER HAND, AND GATHERED THE LILY."]

And the brook danced by--such a tiny little silver streak, winding
through the ferns and mosses, that the girl could scarcely see it.
But she certainly heard it, for no other voice could be so sweet.

"Did you see the lilies in the moonlight?" continued the voice; "they
looked like pearl and ivory."

"Then, does the nightingale like the lilies best?" asked the girl.

"I do not know. But what has the nightingale to do with it?"

The girl looked down at the lilies, and one of them seemed to nod to
her, and its perfumed breath rose up, until a delicate cloud, like
incense, spread around her.

And suddenly the same sweet strain of music that she had heard in the
night sounded from afar off. Yes, it was the same tune: she was sure
it was; she knew it quite well; she had been humming it over and
over as she stood beside the flowers.

As if moved by a sudden thought, she stretched out her hand, and
gathered the lily that had nodded to her. And as she did so the music
grew louder and louder, and instead of the tiny brook dancing through
the ferns and mosses, she saw a great sea, that shone like glittering
gold in the sunlight. And in the distance was a shadowy purple
island, all indistinct in the golden haze around it. She could not
clearly make out its outlines, but she fancied she could trace the
towers and turrets of a stately castle. And as the music grew clearer
and clearer the island appeared to move towards her, and the waves of
the golden sea came dashing up towards her feet. The waters already
covered part of the garden in which she was wandering, and some of
the roses were beginning to disappear, and the girl felt afraid lest
she should be drowned.

She threw down the lily, and as she did so she heard a sudden cry,
and the music died away in a low wail, the purple island and the
glittering sea vanished, and the little brook again danced along.

She wondered whatever it