voice was trained, and after some years she sang in the choir. A strong
hush always came over the chapel when her voice was heard. People still
told in whispers the terrible story of the blind lay sister; and Mat,
sitting in the chapel years afterwards, was carried over the whole
history of her career and his own and that of Ballybay generally as he
listened to her rich contralto singing second to the rest. He had always
thought that there was something wondrously pathetic, at least in sacred
music, in the voice that sings seconds, and the impression was confirmed
as he listened to the blind girl's accompaniment to the other voices;
low when they were loud, sad when they were triumphant, following
painfully their quicker steps with that ever plaintive protest and soft
wail--fit image of life, where our highest joys are dogged by sorrow's
quick and inevitable step.

Conclusion next month.

* * * * *

CHARITY's mantle is often made of gauze.

Alone.

"CANST thou watch one hour with me?"
How long since fell these words from Thee?
Before Thy blood-wept vigil in dark Gethsemane,
How many since to Thee have bent the knee?
And yet too few, for here, O Lord! art Thou;
Deserted? No! for angels crowding to Thee bring
Sweet, holy homage to their God, their King.
While--as Thy chosen ones forgetful slumbered--
Thy people passeth on the road unnumbered,
With never a thought of Thee, O God, beside.
'Tis well, O Lord! 'tis well for human kind,
Thy love is ever wondrous, great and wide,
Thy heart with golden mercies ever glowing,
Thy reaping not always Thy people's sowing.

DESMOND.

A Midnight Mass.

From the French of Abel d'Avrecourt, by Th. Xr. K.

In the height of the Reign of Terror, my grandmother, then a young girl,
was living in the Faubourg Saint-Germain. There was a void around her
and her mother; their friends, their relatives, the head of the family
himself, had left France. Mansions were left desolate or else were
invaded by new owners. They themselves had abandoned their rich
dwellings for a plain lodging-house, where they lived waiting for better
times, carefully hiding their names, which might have compromised them
in those days. The churches, diverted from their purpose, were used as
shops or manufactories. All outward practice of religion had ceased.

Nevertheless b