afflicted
for many years, and it is always a painful sight."

The two horsemen were now at the church, but they passed it and kept on
to the castle; and hearty was the welcome of the noble duke to the halls
of Stramen castle. Sir Sandrit's eyes gleamed with delight as he saluted
his liege; Henry's cheek flushed with pleasure when Rodolph, the flower
of German chivalry, spoke of his youthful prowess at Hohenburg; the Lady
Margaret loved the duke for the praises he heaped upon her brother. Nor
were the domestics gazing idly on; but kept gliding to and fro, and
hurrying here and there until the genial board was spread, and the fish,
fresh from the Danube, smoked, and the goblet gleamed.

As it was near midnight when they sat down, Father Omehr felt at liberty
to leave the room without ceremony. The Lady Margaret stayed no longer
than courtesy demanded, when she rose and retired to her chamber. This
young lady had always been noted for her piety and her charities to the
poor, whose wants she was sure to discover and supply. Under the skilful
and fervent training of Father Omehr, she had learned to repress a
spirit, perhaps naturally quick and imperious, and to practise on every
occasion a humility very difficult to haughty natures. There was even
some austerity in her devotion; for she would subject herself to
rigorous fasts and to weary vigils, and deny herself the luxuries that
her father delighted in procuring for her, little dreaming that they
were secretly dispensed to the sick of the neighborhood. She never
failed to hear Mass, unless prevented by sickness or some other
controlling cause, but every morning laid a bunch of fresh and fragrant
flowers upon the altar of our Blessed Mother. And who shall say that the
sweet lilies of the field, the roses and the violets, colored with the
hues of the dawn, and freshened in the dew of the twilight, when offered
and consecrated by the homage of an innocent heart, are not grateful to
her whose purity they typify! Yet there was a lurking family pride in
Margaret's heart that she could not entirely eradicate, and a sleeping
antipathy to the house of Hers that at times betrayed itself to her
watchful self-examination. The reader must not imagine that, when she
told the missionary at Gilbert's bedside that had the youth fallen in
battle she perhaps would rejoice, she actually desired such an event.
She spoke to one who knew her better. She felt this antipathy, but did
not know its