Then she closed the door gently, and coming with a quick step to Harold, said, in a low but clear voice, "Dost thou love the maiden ?" "Sister," answered the Earl sadly, "I love her as a man should love woman--more than my life, but less than the ends life lives for." "Oh, world, world, world!" cried the Queen, passionately, "not even to thine own objects art thou true.

O world! O world! thou desirest happiness below, and at every turn, with every vanity, thou tramplest happiness under foot! Yes, yes; they said to me, 'For the sake of our greatness, thou shalt wed King Edward.' And I live in the eyes that loathe me--and--and----" The Queen, as if conscience-stricken, paused aghast, kissed devoutly the relic suspended to her rosary, and continued, with such calmness that it seemed as if two women were blent in one, so startling was the contrast.

"And I have had my reward, but not from the world! Even so, Harold the Earl, and Earl's son, thou lovest yon fair child, and she thee; and ye might be happy, if happiness were earth's end; but, though high-born, and of fair temporal possessions, she brings thee not lands broad enough for her dowry, nor troops of kindred to swell thy lithsmen, and she is not a markstone in thy march to ambition; and so thou lovest her as man loves woman--'less than the ends life lives for!'" "Sister," said Harold, "thou speakest as I love to hear thee speak--as my bright-eyed, rose-lipped sister spoke in the days of old; thou speakest as a woman with warm heart, and not as the mummy in the stiff cerements of priestly form; and if thou art with me, and thou wilt give me countenance, I will marry thy godchild, and save her alike from the dire superstitions of Hilda, and the grave of the abhorrent convent." "But my father--my father!" cried the Queen, "who ever bended that soul of steel ?" "It is not my father I fear; it is thee and thy monks.

Forgettest thou that Edith and I are within the six banned degrees of the Church ?" "True, most true," said the Queen, with a look of great terror; "I had forgotten.

Avaunt, the very thought! Pray--fast--banish it--my poor, poor brother!" and she kissed his brow.
"So, there fades the woman, and the mummy speaks again!" said Harold, bitterly.