"
"For whom did you take me, my daughter?" asked the Bishop.
"For one of whom you have oft reminded me, my lord, if I may say so
without offence, seeing I speak of a priest who was the ideal of my
girlhood's dreams. Knew you, many years ago, one Father Gervaise, held
in high regard at the Court, confessor to the Queen and her ladies?"
The Bishop smiled, and his blue eyes looked into Mora's with an
expression of quiet interest.
"Father Gervaise?" he said. "Preacher at the Court? Indeed, I knew
him, my daughter; and more than knew him. Father Gervaise and I had
the same grandparents."
"Ah," cried Mora, eagerly, "then that accounts for a resemblance which
from the first has haunted me, making of our friendship, at once, so
sweetly intimate a thing. The voice and the eyes alone were like--but,
ah, so like! Father Gervaise wore a beard, which hid his mouth and
chin; but his blue eyes had in them that kindly yet searching look,
though not merry as yours oft are, my lord; and your voice has ever
made me think of his.
"And once--just once--his eyes looked at me, across the Castle hall at
Windsor, with a deep glow of fire in them; a look which made me feel
called to an altar whereon, if I could but stand the test of fire, I
should be forever purified, uplifted, blest as was never earthly maid
before, save only our blessed Lady. All that night I dreamed of it,
and my whole soul was filled with it, yet never again did I see Father
Gervaise.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283