e fancy-ball. Is there one religion for church and
another for home? Do we fold it up and put it away with our prayer-books
in the little book-cupboard that father locks so carefully?' finished
Jill, with girlish scorn.

Poor Jill! she had a wide, generous nature, with great capabilities, but
she was growing up in a chilling atmosphere. Young girls are terribly
honest; they dig down to the very root of things; they drag off the
swathing cloths from the mummy face of conventionality. What does it
mean? they ask. Is there truth anywhere? Endless shams surround them;
people listen to sermons, then they shake off the dust of the holy place
carefully from the very hem of their garments; their religion, as Jill
expressed it, is left beside their prayer-books. Ah! if one could but see
clearly, with eyes purged from every remnant of earthliness,--see as the
angels do,--the thick fog of unrisen and unprayed prayers clinging to the
rafters of every empty church, we might well shudder in the clogging
heavy atmosphere.

Jill had not more religion than many other girls, but she wanted to be
true; the inconsistency of human nature baffled and perplexed her; she
was not more ready to renounce the world than Sara was, but she wished
to know the inner meaning of things, and in this I longed to help her.
I could not help thinking of her tenderly and pitifully as I walked
down the road leading to the little Norman church. I was early, and the
building was nearly empty when I entered the porch; but it was quiet and
restful to sit there and review the past week, and watch the sunshine
lighting up the red brick walls and touching the rood-screen, while a
faint purple gleam fell on the chancel pavement.

Two ladies entered the seat before me, and I looked at them a little
curiously.

They were both very handsomely dressed, but it was not their fashionable
appearance that attracted me. I had caught sight of a most beautiful and
striking face belonging to one of them that somehow riveted my attention.

The lady was apparently very young, and had a tall graceful figure, and
strange colourless hair that looked as though it ought to have been
golden, only the gloss had faded out of it; but it was lovely hair, fine
and soft as a baby's.

As she rose she slightly turned round, and our eyes met for a moment;
they were large, melancholy eyes, and the face, beautiful as it was, was
very worn and thin, and absolutely without colour. I could see he