After going on a few hundred yards more he turned to the right out of Bishopsgate Street into Threadneedle Street, on through the Poultry, through Cheapside. At the end of Cheapside! It was close upon six o'clock when he reached the churchyard, and mounting the steps of the northern porch, entered St Paul's. The cathedral was dim, silent, solemn. He glanced up and around with a cowed, hunted look. It was only a few hours since he had been in that church. What a terrible night and day he had had since! Enough to break down a man's reason. Yes, this was the proper place to come to when one was in trouble. No book of reasons had so subtle an influence as this mighty pile, raised up by religious souls to be a calming canopy for mental woe and spiritual travail. He sat down awhile. Yes, he was growing calmer, cooler, more collected. He bent his head in prayer. Suddenly he looked around wildly, and gasped. There were few now in the cathedral, and no one near him. 'It will not come!' he cried mentally. 'It will not come! O God, be merciful to me, and do not drive me mad!' A hand was laid on his shoulder. He turned around, and looked up slowly. 'What, you, Nevill, here, alone!' 'Yes, here, alone,' with a quiet smile that flickered off his face in a moment, and left an anxious, worn expression behind. 'What are you doing here at this time?' 'I have been very anxious about a certain thing. I could not stay in the house. I have been here and there, and everywhere all day, and I came in here this instant to--' 'To what?' 'To ask a great favour from Heaven.' 'What, _you!_' cried Osborne. 'Yes, I.' 'What was the favour made you think of praying? I came here, too, to ask a great favour.' 'I came here to ask that I might be less irreligious in the future, and that--that one I have asked to marry may not refuse me.' 'Come away,' said Osborne. 'Come away; I can stay here no longer.' As they passed into the vestibule, Nevill said,-- 'You look queer, Osborne. What is the matter?' 'I came, like you, to ask my faith back.' 'What, you!' 'Yes; and it has not come.' Part the Third. MISERERE NOBIS. CHAPTER I. ANXIETY AND DESPAIR. As Osborne and Nevill descended the steps of the cathedral, the former became conscious of weakness. He passed his arm, through one of his companion's. For awhile both walked on in silence. They were too much occupied with the conflict between their thoughts and their feelings for words. Nevill felt: 'Oh, if I should lose her, what will become of me? I never was serious in my life until now. What a fearful thing it is to go on all one's days treating life as a jest, and then come suddenly upon a fair shy girl, whose word can make life a tragedy or an idyl!' He thought,--