heard. Her words, she knew,
though she could not help it, were now and then flavoured with
bitterness.

In the next chapel Mrs. Dallas heard with much sympathy and wonder the
account of Catharine of Valois and her remains.

'I don't think she ought to lie in the vault of Sir George Villiers, if
he _was_ father of the Duke of Buckingham,' she exclaimed.

'That Duke of Buckingham had more honour than belonged to him, in life
and in death,' said Betty.

'It does not make much difference now,' said Pitt.

They went on to the chapel of Henry VII. And here, and on the way
thither, Betty almost for a while forgot her troubles in the exceeding
majesty and beauty of the place. The power of very exquisite beauty,
which always and in all forms testifies to another world where its
source and its realization are, came down upon her spirit, and hushed
it as with a breath of balm; and the littleness of this life, of any
one individual's life, in the midst of the efforts here made to deny
it, stood forth in most impressive iteration. Betty was awed and
quieted for a minute. Mr. and Mrs. Dallas were moved differently.

'And this was Henry the Seventh's work!' exclaimed Mr. Dallas, making
an effort to see all round him at once. 'Well, I didn't know they could
build so well in those old times. Let us see; when was he
buried?--1509? That is pretty long ago. This is a beautiful building!
And that is his tomb, eh? I should say this is better than anything he
had in his lifetime. Being king of England was not just so easy to him
as his son found it. Crowns are heavy in the best of times; and his was
specially.'

'It is a strange ambition, though, to be glorified so in one's funeral
monument,' said Betty.

'A very common ambition,' remarked Pitt. 'But this chapel was to be
much more than a monument. It was a chantry. The king ordered ten
thousand masses to be said here for the repose of his soul; and
intended that the monkish establishment should remain for ever to
attend to them. Here around his tomb you see the king's particular
patron saints,--nine of them,--to whom he looked for help in time of
need; all over the chapel you will find the four national saints, if I
may so call them, of the kingdom; and at the end there is the Virgin
Mary, with Peter and Paul, and other saints and angels innumerable. The
whole chapel is like those touching folded hands of stone we were
speaking of,--a continual appeal, through human and angelic med