as she went away.
"The more so the better," called out Blake; "don't spare me--imagine you're the _Musical Times_."
Una laughed, and ensconced herself in a comfortable pew at the far end of the church just near the white marble font.
The quaint old church, with its high oaken roof and narrow, stained-glass windows with their vivid tints, was filled with great masses of shadow, which produced a faint, misty twilight, eminently suited to the sacred character of the place. At intervals on either side of the wide nave arose the heavy, grey stone pillars, their elaborately carved entablatures being hardly apparent in the semi-gloom overhead.
The flags of the centre aisle, worn by the feet of pious generations, made a broad path of whitish tint leading up to the chancel, ending at a flight of long, shallow steps, in the centre of which stood the brass lectern, in the form of an eagle. Between the nave and the chancel was a lance-shaped arch, on which gleamed a slender ribbon of gold, inscribed with a biblical text in vermillion. The sombre appearance of the choir seats, with their overhanging canopies, was somewhat relieved by the white glimmer of the communion table carved out of pure marble, on which stood a large crucifix of ebony, looking black and sharply defined against the great painted window at the back. Through the fantastically painted windows, with their bizarre figures of red, yellow and green, crept the grey light of the day, but suddenly a shaft of sunshine burst into the church, touching the tomb of a crusader with rainbow tints, while from the tall organ-pipes flashed gleams of golden fire. All was faint and shadowy, like the confusion of a dream, and the dusky atmosphere seemed to be filled with the subtle perfume of the incense which had curled up from silver censers in the old Romish days.
Through the sombre shadows stole the rich, swelling notes of the organ which woke to life under the skilful fingers of the blind girl. A few great notes pealed from the mighty mouths of the pipes--Cecilia played the majestic melody, which floated grandly through the church--and then the volume of melodious sound sank downward to a low-breathed whisper as Blake began the "Cujus animam" with one resonant note which rang out like the sound of a silver trumpet. "Cujus animam gementem Contristantur et dolentem Pertransivit gladius."
The voice of the singer seemed to float high in the air like that of some unseen angel hidden in the golden clouds, while far below the roll and thunder of the organ seemed to rise and fall like sullen surges beating upon a lonely shore. Una closed her eyes as that superb voice with its penetrating sweetness rang out the mournful words with an intensity of dramatic feeling which went to her very soul with its strong religious 

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