f my life is interwoven with that of the princely line in whom
you feel so deep an interest, I will relate it."

"Thanks, good mother," said Salome, nestling to her side and preparing
to listen.

"Not here, and not now, my child, can I enter upon the long, sorrowful,
shameful story--a story of pride, despotism and cruelty on one side; of
passion, wilfulness and recklessness on the other; of selfishness, sin
and ruin on all sides! Daughter, in almost every tale of sin and
suffering you will find that there has always been sin on _one_ side
and suffering on the _other_; but in this story _all_ sinned
deeply, all suffered fearfully!"

"Except yourself, sweet mother. You never sinned," said Salome, taking
the thin, pale hand of the lady and pressing it to her lips.

"_Mea culpa!_ I sin every hour of my life!" cried the abbess,
crossing herself.

"We all do; but you did not sin _there_," said the girl.

"I had no part--no active part, I mean--in that tale of guilt and woe.
I was a pupil here in this convent then, waiting to be brought out and
married to my betrothed. No, I had no part in that tragedy."

"Except the passive part of suffering."

"Ay, except the passive part of suffering; but hark, my child! the vesper
bell is ringing; it calls us to our evening worship: let us go to the
choir, and there forget all our earthly cares and seek the peace of
Heaven," said the pale lady, slowly rising from her seat.

"When will you tell me the story, good mother?" pleaded Salome, in a low
and deprecating tone.

"The vesper bell is ringing. The rules of the house must not be disturbed
by your individual necessities. After the evening service comes the
evening meal. Then, for me, my hour of rest in my cell; and for you, the
duty of seeing your infant charge put to bed. When all these matters have
been properly attended to, come to me in my cell. You will find me there.
We shall be uninterrupted until the midnight mass; and in the interim I
will tell you the story of a life that 'was lost, but is found, was dead,
but is alive'--_Benedicite_, my daughter!" said the abbess,
spreading her hands upon the bowed head of the girl, and solemnly
blessing her.

Then she glided away.

Salome soon followed her, and joined the procession of nuns to the
chapel.

As soon as she took her seat in the choir, she looked through the screen
over the congregation below, to see if the strangers were in the chapel;
but she saw them not.

Wh