This last was a hint at her sister's embroidery; they never were without a "holy robe" in hand, intended for the decoration of some priest or another. "Thanks be to the saints and to their blessed servants who tutored me, you can not provoke me to anger, Frances. What I have done, I have done for your good. It is incumbent on us to stop this affair in the bud, rather than suffer you to become deeply attached to this young nobleman. Alas! that hearts still dead to the spirit, _should_ be guilty of passion so reprehensible for a fellow-creature!" "Whatever attachment there may be between me and Lord Winchester, it does not concern you." "You can never marry him." "I shall not ask your consent." Miss Louisa Hildyard fell upon one knee when she heard these words, and prayed for reformation to the sinful heart of her young sister. "You might as well marry the--the--" she seemed to hesitate for a mild expression, "the person down below who is not an angel," she continued, tapping the floor with her foot, lest Frances should mistake her meaning; "you might as well marry _him_, as a man professing the religion they call Protestant." The pale face of Frances bore a tinge of red--always a sign in her of deep emotion. She liked not the turn the discussion was taking, for she had been nurtured in the doctrines of the Romish faith, and even she, careless as she was of fulfilling the duties of her religion, owned to prejudices against those of an opposite creed, though her all-potent love for Lord Winchester willingly buried in his case these prejudices in oblivion. "Oh, Frances! think of your soul! How can that be saved if you willfully ally yourself with one who can never enter into the fold of Christ?" "Have you increased my obligations to you," interrupted Frances, trying to smother her sister's words, "by informing papa that you are a breaker-open of other people's letters?" "My lips are sealed upon the subject until the arrival of the answer of Sister Mildred," replied Miss Hildyard. "I shall be guided, as I ever am, by her advice." IV. The answer of "Sister Mildred" was not long in coming. It was a voluminous epistle, partly consisting of pathetic lamentations over the "stray lamb who seemed prone to wonder;" and earnestly urging, nay, commanding her dear daughter Louisa to consult at once with her confessor, and to let him see and explain the danger to Mr. Hildyard.