your own House?"

"No, Guardian. From what I heard casually of my ancestors a record of
their doings would be scarcely the sort of reading recommended to a
young girl."

"Ah, very true, very true," agreed the Archbishop. "Some of the Counts
of Sayn led turbulent lives, and except with a battle-ax it was
difficult to persuade them not to meddle with the goods and chattels of
their neighbors. A strenuous line they proved in those olden days; but
many noble women have adorned the Castle of Sayn whose lives shine out
like an inspiration against the dark background of medieval tumult. Did
you ever hear of your forebear, the gracious Countess Matilda von Sayn,
who lived some hundreds of years ago? Indeed, the letters I have been
reading, written in her quaint handwriting, are dated about the middle
of the thirteenth century. I cannot learn whether she was older or
younger than the Archbishop of Cologne of that period, and thus I wish
to enlist the interest of Father Ambrose in searching the archives of
Sayn for anything pertaining to her. The Countess sent many epistles to
the Archbishop which he carefully preserved, while documents of much
more importance to the Archbishopric were allowed to go astray.

"Her letters breathe a deep devotion to the Church, and a warm
kindliness to its chief ornament of that day, the then Archbishop of
Cologne. She was evidently his most cherished adviser, and in points of
difficulty her counsel exhibits all the clarity of a man's brain, to
which is added a tenderness and a sense of justice entirely womanly. I
could not help fancying that this great prelate's success in his
Archbishopric was largely due to the disinterested advice of this noble
woman. It is clearly to be seen that the Countess was the benignant