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The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. It isn’t illusions—for us. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. He was astonished. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited. .

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