o in the bishop's inmost heart.

"Come away! let us go home! Duncan, this is no place for us--for
_you_. It is disgrace to be here," was the mother's passionate plea,
when at last Rosalie disappeared, and other forms stood in her
place.

"We will stay and save her," was the answer, spoken with tears and
trembling, by the man for whom, in many a quiet home, prayers in
that very hour ascended. "She is mine _now_, and no earthly
consideration or power shall divide us."

And looking for a moment in her son's face steadfastly, the lady
turned away sighing and tearful, for she knew that she must yield
then, and she had fears for the future.

A half-hour passed and the star of the night reappeared, resplendent
in beauty, triumphing in hope;--again her marvellous voice was
raised, not with the bitter cry of despair that was hopeless, but
glad and gay, angelic in its joy.

Again the mother's eyes were turned on him beside her--and a light
was on that pale forehead--a smile on that calm face--a gladness in
those eyes--such as she had not seen there in long, long years; but
though she looked with a mother's love upon the one who stood the
admiration of all eyes, crowned with the glory-crown of perfection
in her art, she could not with Duncan hope. For, alas! her
woman-heart knew too well the ordeal through which the daughter of
her care and love must have passed before she came into _that_
presence where she stood now, who could tell if still the mistress
of herself and her destiny? who could tell if pure and undefiled?

That night and the following day, there were many who sought
admittance to the parlours of Rosalie Sherwood; they would lay the
homage of their trifling hearts at her feet. But all these sought in
vain; and why was this? Because such admiring tribute was not what
the noble woman sought; _and_ because, ere she had risen in the
morning, a letter, written in the solitude of night, was handed to
her, which barred and bolted her doors against the curious world.

"Rosalie! Rosalie! look back through the ten years that are gone; I
am answering your letter of long ago with words; I have a thousand
times answered them with my heart, till the thoughts which have
crowded there, filled it almost to breaking. We have met--met at
last--you and I! But did you call that a triumph when you stood in
God's house, and saw them lay their consecrating hands upon me?
Heaven forgive me! I was thinking of you then--and thinking,