her. A new thought had entered into her life, the woman was awakened
in her, and beat violently at that heart which devotion had overlaid
with a hard coating.

She had tried to collect herself in prayer, and to fill her soul so
entirely with the idea of God and her Church, that no earthly
thought or desire could find place therein. But ever and again arose
before her mind's eye the noble countenance of Henry Howard, ever
and again she fancied that she heard his earnest, melodious voice,
which made her heart shake and tremble like a magical incantation.
She had at first struggled against these sweet fancies, which forced
upon her such strange and undreamed-of thoughts; but at length the
woman in her got the better of the fanatical Romanist, and, dropping
into a seat, she surrendered herself to her dreams and fancies.

"Has he recognized me?" asked she of herself. "Does he still
remember that a year ago we saw each other daily at the king's court
in Dublin?"

"But no," added she mournfully," he knows nothing of it. He had then
eyes and sense only for his young wife. Ah, and she was beautiful
and lovely as one of the Graces. But I, am not I also beautiful? and
have not the noblest cavaliers paid me homage, and sighed for me in
unavailing love? How comes it, then, that where I would please,
there I am always overlooked? How comes it, that the only two men,
for whose notice I ever cared, have never shown any preference for
me? I felt that I loved Henry Howard, but this love was a sin, for
the Earl of Surrey was married. I therefore tore my heart from him
by violence, and gave it to God, because the only man whom I could
love did not return my affection. But even God and devotion are not