should, as it were, unite heaven and earth.
Here Ottilie was in her element. The gardens provided the most perfect
patterns; and although the wreaths were as rich as they could make them,
it was all finished sooner than they had supposed possible.

It was still looking rough and disorderly. The scaffolding poles had
been run together, the planks thrown one on the top of the other; the
uneven pavement was yet more disfigured by the parti-colored stains of
the paint which had been spilt over it.

The Architect begged that the ladies would give him a week to himself,
and during that time would not enter the chapel; at the end of it, one
fine evening, he came to them, and begged them both to go and see it. He
did not wish to accompany them, he said, and at once took his leave.

"Whatever surprise he may have designed for us," said Charlotte, as soon
as he was gone, "I cannot myself just now go down there. You can go by
yourself, and tell me all about it. No doubt he has been doing something
which we shall like. I will enjoy it first in your description, and
afterwards it will be the more charming in the reality."

Ottilie, who knew well that in many cases Charlotte took care to avoid
everything which could produce emotion, and particularly disliked to be
surprised, set off down the walk by herself and looked round
involuntarily for the Architect, who, however, was nowhere to be seen
and must have concealed himself somewhere. She walked into the church,
which she found open. This had been finished before; it had been cleaned
up, and service had been performed in it. She went on to the chapel
door; its heavy mass, all overlaid with iron, yielded easily to her
touch, and she found an unexpected sight in a familiar spot.

A solemn, beautiful light streamed in through the one tall window. It
was filled with stained glass, gracefully put together. The entire
chapel had thus received a strange tone, and a peculiar genius was
thrown over it. The beauty of the vaulted ceiling and the walls was set
off by the elegance of the pavement, which was composed of peculiarly
shaped tiles, fastened together with gypsum, and forming exquisite
patterns as they lay. This and the colored glass for the windows the
Architect had prepared without their knowledge, and a short time was
sufficient to have it put in its place.

Seats had been provided as well. Among the relics of the old church some
finely carved chancel chairs had been discovered