ocky wall of the little cavern, a small brown-covered volume.

"I know not if you can read," she said, offering the book to Lady
Sergeaux; "but there are the words."

The little volume was no continuous Book of Scripture, but consisted of
passages extracted almost at random, of varying lengths, apparently just
as certain paragraphs had attracted her when she heard or read them.

"Yes, I can read. My nurse taught me," said Philippa, taking the little
book from her hand.

But her eyes lighted, the first thing, upon a passage which enchained
them; and she read no further.

"Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever
drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE VEIL UPLIFTED.

"Household names, that used to flutter
Through your laughter unawares,--
God's Divine Name ye can utter
With less trembling, in your prayers."

Elizabeth B. Browning.

Philippa sat down again with the book in her hand. Her mood had changed
suddenly at the sight of the text, which she instantly guessed to be the
original of her well-remembered device.

"I need not go yet," she said, "unless I weary you, Mother."

"I am never wearied of the Master's work," answered the low voice.

Lady Sergeaux opened the door of the cell.

"Lena and Oliver," she called, "you can return to the convent, and come
hither for me again ere the dusk falleth. I shall abide a season with
this holy Mother."

"But your Ladyship will ere that be faint for hunger," objected Lena.

"No,--I will take care of that," replied the Grey Lady, ere Philippa
could answer.

Lena louted, and departed with Oliver, and her mistress again closed the
door of the cell. The Grey Lady set bread before her, and honey, with a
cup of milk, bidding her eat.

"Thank you, Mother, but I am not hungry yet," said Philippa.

"You ought to be. You had better eat," was the quiet answer.

And quiet as the voice was, it had a tone of authority which Philippa
involuntarily and unconsciously obeyed. And while she ate, her hostess
in her turn became the questioner.

"Are you a knight's wife?"

"I am the wife of Sir Richard Sergeaux, a knight of Cornwall," said
Philippa. "My lord is away in Gascony, in the train of the Earl of
Arundel, who accompanies the Duke of Lancaster, at present Governor of
those parts. While he is absent, I hope to be able to make my salvation
in retreat, and to quiet my conscienc