"Do you think I've forgotten you for one moment, while I've been
away?"
"Yes; while you were asleep." She smiled shyly, while her fingers caressed
his.
"Wrong--quite wrong! I dreamed of you both nights. And oh, dearest, I
thought of you last night."
"Where--when?" Her voice was low--a little embarrassed.
"In chapel--the chapel at Blackmount--at Benediction."
She looked puzzled.
"What is Benediction?"
"A most beautiful service, though of late origin--which, like fools, we
have let the Romans monopolize. The Bishops bar it, but in private chapels
like our own, or Blackmount, they can't interfere. To me, yesterday
evening"--his voice fell--"it was like the gate of heaven. I longed to have
you there."
She made no reply. Her brow knitted a little. He went on:
"Of course a great deal of what is done at places like Blackmount is not
recognized--yet. To some of the services--to Benediction for instance--the
public is not admitted. But the brothers keep every rule--of the strictest
observance. I was present last night at the recitation of the Night
Office--most touching--most solemn! And--my darling!"--he pressed her hand
while his face lit up--"I want to ask you--though I hardly dare.
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