tempt
to conceal his rapture. It is a weakness of which he seems unconscious.
Rosalie pointed out many a house in which she had ministered; here
soothing the pillow of the dying, there rescuing one from the grasp of
death. Under her guidance the streets seemed more beautiful than ever; a
holier atmosphere surrounded them.

At length we reached the wonderful steps leading to the cathedral. They
were flooded with sunlight and gave dignity to the ugly west front, so
unworthy of the splendid interior. Passing under the fine old gateway
and turning to the left, we found ourselves close to the old church of
San Filiu. In days gone by, when the Moors captured Gerona and changed
its cathedral into a mosque, the Christians had worshipped here.
Whatever its interior at that time, it is now dark, gloomy and
depressing.

Rosalie entered a quiet street beyond, a short narrow turning of only a
few yards, then halted.

It was, as she had said, one of the loveliest spots in Gerona; so hidden
that few would find it by chance. A small house of great antiquity but
perfectly preserved. An exquisite Gothic archway over which the house
was built led into a small quadrangle. Beside this archway was a
mullioned window with latticed panes. We imagined the quaint old room
within and longed to enter. Above this was another latticed window with
Gothic mullions and ornaments. It was open, and sweet-scented flowers
threw their perfume upon the air. This was crowned by a sloping roof
with red tiles bearing all the tone and beauty of age. At least three
centuries must have rolled over them unmolested. Even H. C. forgot the
charms of Rosalie and became enthusiastic in favour of still life.

"It is my destination," said Rosalie. "I was hastening here yesterday
when you saw me crossing the square of San Pedro. Where those lovely
flowers are scenting the air, a lovelier earthly flower is passing away.
Consumption is doing its work. The only child of a mother who will soon
have no tie left on earth. So Heaven sometimes sees well to draw our
souls upwards. There are those who need this discipline. Trouble, like
everything else, enters into the wise economy of God's purposes. I doubt
if a single unnecessary care or pain is dealt out to us. But here the
hand of affliction is charged with a heavy burden. The invalid is a fair
maiden of seventeen, pure and beautiful. Her resignation is a gift from
heaven, a lesson to us all. But for that I don't know what w