the end she stopped and placed her finger upon her lips. Then, motioning me to remain there, she entered, closing the door after her, and leaving me in the pitch darkness.
I strained my ears, but could hear no sound save that of some one moving within. No word was uttered, or if so, it was whispered so low that it did not reach me.
For fully five minutes I waited in impatience outside that closed door, until again the handle turned and my conductress beckoned me in silence within.
I stepped into a small square chamber, the floor of which was carpeted, and where, suspended high above, was a lamp that shed but a faint light over the barely-furnished place. It seemed to me to be a kind of sitting-room, with a plain deal table and a couple of chairs, but there was no stove, and the place looked chill and comfortless. Beyond was another smaller room into which the old nun disappeared for a moment; then she came forth leading a strange wan little figure in a grey gown, a figure whose face was the most perfect and most lovely I had ever seen. Her wealth of chestnut hair fell dishevelled about lier shoulders, and as her hands were clasped before her she looked straight at me in surprise as she was led toward me.
She walked but feebly, and her countenance was deathly pale. Her dress, as she came beneath the lamp, was, I saw, coarse, yet clean, and her beautiful regular features, which in her photograph had held me in such fascination, were even more sweet and
