"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. " His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper.
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