The Mother Theresa sat in a sort of withdrawing-room, the roof of which rose in arches, starred with blue and gold like that of the cloister, and the sides were frescoed with scenes from the life of the Virgin. Over every door, and in convenient places between the paintings, texts of Holy Writ were illuminated in blue and scarlet and gold, with a richness and fancifulness of outline, as if every sacred letter had blossomed into a mystical flower. The Abbess herself, with two of her nuns, was busily embroidering a new altar-cloth, with a lavish profusion of adornment; and, from time to time, their voices rose in the musical tones of an ancient Latin hymn. The words were full of that quaint and mystical pietism with which the fashion of the times clothed the expression of devotional feeling:—

feeling:—

"Jesu, corona virginum,

Quem mater illa concepit,

Quæ sola virgo parturit,

Hæc vota clemens accipe.

"Qui pascis inter lilia

Septus choreis virginum,

Sponsus decoris gloria

Sponsisque reddens præmia.

"Quocunque pergis, virgines

Sequuntur atque laudibus

Post te canentes cursitant

Hymnosque dulces personant."1

personant."1

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