ciliatory manner. Long did she hesitate, but at length she penned the following equivocal lines :

"I have received, my dear sister, no letter of the tenor you mention, from England, since I left you. I trust you and all are well. Assure yourself of my unceasing interest in all that concerns our most holy church. "Yours ever and ever,

"MILLICENT S. H. AYLMER."

Millicent had scarcely despatched this note than she regretted it; however, she comforted herself by the idea that she was doing a real service to the church of which she was a member, and thought that, in due time, the sister Allegra would commend her.

How specious is that system of error! How opposed to that pure and simple truth which the Lord Jesus commends to his followers! How many melancholy instances are there on record of the sacrifice of principle, to advance the interests of the Church of Rome! But to resume.

It was a considerable time after Millicent had sent the above written message, between midnight and the dawn of morning, that she was surprised to hear some one enter her room; but, thinking that it was her sister, she began to question her as to her evening's amusement. But it was not Mrs. Kenyon. A very tall figure approached, attired in black, and, hastily uncovering her head, which was closely enveloped in a black hood and mask, and throwing back a large black veil, which totally concealed her features, Millicent beheld the sister Allegra !

Millicent uttered an expression of the greatest surprise.

"Hush" said the sister, " as you value my life; nothing but the greatest interest in your welfare could have made me attempt such a risk as I incur in coming here; but it is to save you, my daughter, to prevent you falling totally away from the glorious profession that you have made, to save you from the torments of the damned; speak to me, why did you-why could you refuse me

N 2

your

letter? think not to deceive me: I know you received one."

Millicent did not attempt any further prevarication; but now the sister did not believe

her assertion. "I have not got Mr. Vernon's letter," said she; " I assure you I have not; if I had, I should give it to you."

"And you dared to tell me, daughter, that you never received a dangerous letter from England: what could it otherwise be, penned by one of the greatest enemies our church knows in England, a man who has left no means untried to brand it with infamy, and who, I have reason to know, did all that lay in his power to prevent your coming here: but he was deluded of his purpose, and he shall be so still. But where is his letter?-did you destroy it?"

"No," said Millicent, "I did not."

"Then where is it?-give it to me, and let me begone."

"I gave it," answered Millicent, “to Father Barberini."

"Barberini!" said the sister, in a voice of the greatest anger and astonishment;

"how came you to see, or to know Barberini ?"

"The father Lordini introduced him to me," said Millicent: "I by no means like him."

"What lover of the church can ?" said the sister Allegra. "Sooner than that dotard had done such a thing as to have brought him here, and that he should have obtained that heretical letter, I would have perished beneath our own convent's walls. Barberini is my greatest enemy. Some years ago, to satisfy some ambitious scheme, he applied to me for a considerable sum of money: I knew his habits, and was persuaded I never should see it again. Had it been in a good cause, I should not have hesitated to have given it; but never did Allegra stoop to a dishonourable act. Since that time his revenge has known no bounds. You would have thought one removed so far from the world would have been proof against his wiles; but even there he has endeavoured to sow discord, and turn those who owe their all to me, against me. O my

daughter, would that you had never, never given this letter to him."

"I assure you, you need be under no apprehensions, sister; what possible harm can it do? it may rather be the means of showing some Protestant his error, and bringing him into the bosom of our most holy church."

"I have no such anticipations; I know Barberini better. His mind is a mine of iniquity, and so indifferent is he to the true interest of our church, that I have known him neglect the most signal opportunities of serving her; indeed, I believe very little would make him, as far as he is concerned, relinquish her to her enemies. That, however, he cannot do; she has friends, and powerful friends-yes, my daughter, even in the heart of your apostate country. One there is, Reyner Fitzgerald, a distant relation of the unhappy Theresa, in whom I have much trust; he has done, and he yet may do, much for Britain. She has long been sunk deep in heresy, but I think brighter days are dawning upon her, and I