cold, too, I daresay.
Well, you know I cannot bear to see these old churches--well, perhaps I
was--" and then she broke off again, and was silent.

The brother and sister presently turned back to the Dower House; and Mary
went on, and through the Hall straight into the Italian garden where
Mistress Margaret was sitting alone at her embroidery.

"My sister has been called away by the housekeeper," she explained, "but
she will be back presently."

Mary sat down and took up the little tawny book that lay by Lady
Maxwell's chair, and began to turn it over idly while she talked. The old
lady by her seemed to invite confidences.

"I have been to see the church," said Mary. "The Rector showed it to me.
What a beautiful place it must have been."

"Ah!" said Mistress Margaret "I only came to live here a few years ago;
so I have never known or loved it like my sister or her husband. They can
hardly bear to enter it now. You know that Sir Nicholas' father and
grandfather are buried in the Maxwell chapel; and it was his father who
gave the furniture of the sanctuary, and the images of Our Lady and Saint
Christopher that they burned on the green."

"It is terrible," said Mary, a little absently, as she turned the pages
of the book.

Mistress Margaret looked up.

"Ah! you have one of my books there," she said. "It is a little
collection I made."

Miss Corbet turned to the beginning, but only found a seal with an
inscription.

"But this belonged to a nunnery," she said.

"Yes," said Mistress Margaret, tranquilly, "and I am a nun."

Mary looked at her in astonishment.

"But, but," she began.

"Yes, Mistress Corbet; we were dispersed in '38; some entered the other
nunneries; and some went to France; but, at last, under circumstances
that I need not trouble you with, I came here under spiritual direction,
and have observed my obligations ever since."

"And have you always said your offices?" Mary asked astonished.

"Yes, my dear; by the mercy of God I have never failed yet. I tell you
this of course because you are one of us, and because you have a faithful
heart." Mistress Margaret lifted her great eyes and looked at Mary
tenderly and penetratingly.

"And this is one of your books?" she asked.

"Yes, my dear. I was allowed at least to take it away with me. My sister
here is very fond of it."

Mary opened it again, and began to turn the pages.

"Is it all in your handwriting, Mistress Torridon?"

"Yes, my chil