Monsignore bowed in gratitude to the compliment, but contrived, as he bent his head, to throw a covert glance at his future neighbour, with the result of which he did not seem displeased. “I must of course, then, send you back those interesting books, which I have only in part read?” “By no means, my Lady; they are yours, if you will honour me by accepting them. If the subject did not forbid the epithet, I should call them trifles.” “Monsignore insists on my reading the 'Controversy,' dear Lady Grace; but how I am to continue my studies without his guidance------” “We can correspond, my Lady,” quickly broke in the other. “You can state to me whatever doubts--difficulties, perhaps, were, the better word--occur to you; I shall be but too happy and too proud to offer you the solution; and if my Lady Grace Twining would condescend to accept me in the same capacity--.” She bowed blandly, and he went on. “There is a little tract here, by the Cardinal Balbi--'Flowers of St. Joseph' is the title. The style is simple but touching--'the invitation' scarcely to be resisted.” “I think you told me I should like the Cardinal personally,” broke in Lady Lackington. “His Eminence is charming, my Lady--such goodness, such gentleness, and so much of the very highest order of conversational agreeability.” “Monsignore is so polite as to promise us introductions at Rome,” continued she, addressing Lady Grace, “and amongst those, too, who are never approached by our countrymen.” “The Alterini, the Fornisari, the Balbetti,” proudly repeated Monsignore. “All ultra-exclusives, you understand,” whispered Lady Lacking-ton to her friend, “who wouldn't tolerate the English.” “How charming!” ejaculated Lady Grace, with a languid enthusiasm. “The Roman nobility,” continued Lady Lackington, “stands proudly forward, as the only society in Europe to which the travelling English cannot obtain access.” “They have other prejudices, my Lady--if I may so dare to call sentiments inspired by higher influences--than those which usually sway society. These prejudices are all in favour of such as regard our Church, if not with the devotion of true followers, at least with the respect and veneration that rightfully attach to the first-born of Christianity.” “Yes,” said Lady Lackington, as, though not knowing very well to what, she gave her assent, and then added, “I own to you I have always experienced a sort of awe--a sense of--what shall I call it?” “Devotion, my Lady,” blandly murmured Monsignore, while his eyes were turned on her with a paraphrase of the sentiment. “Just so. I have always felt it on entering one of your churches--the solemn stillness, the gloomy indistinctness, the softened tints, the swelling notes of the organ--you know what I mean.”