Rather fascinated by his courteous attentions, Miss Blake did so: and thought what a bright-looking, pretty drawing-room it was. The gentleman took off his green glasses (casually mentioning that he wore them out of doors as a protection against the sun, for his eyes were not strong) and searched for the guidebook. The book, however, proved to be chiefly a book of roads, and said very little more of the monastery and the ruins than Miss Blake had heard from Tom Pepp. "You have hurt your arm," she at length ventured to observe, as he slowly drew it once or twice out of the sling, and seemed to use it with trouble. "Any accident?" "An accident of long standing, madam. But the wrist continues weak, and always will continue so, next door to useless; and I wear the sling for protection." Miss Blake took her departure; the gentleman escorting her to the garden gate with much ceremony. In fact, it almost seemed as though he wished to make a favourable impression on her. "He is a gallant man," was Miss Blake's mental comment--"and a well-informed and pleasant one. I wonder who he is?" But her thoughts, veering round to many other matters, at length settled themselves upon the Maze and its young lady inmate. They quite took hold of her mind and held possession of it, even to the partial exclusion of Mr. Cattacomb and the promising ruins. In later days, Miss Blake said this must have been nothing less than instinct. CHAPTER XII. Taking an Evening Stroll. Miss Blake carried her point. In a very short space of time the little way-side room in the ruins--call it chapel, school-room, barn, what you will--was converted into a church and styled "St. Jerome." Setting to work at once with a will, Miss Blake had left not a stone unturned to accomplish her purpose. She pressed several of the young ladies in the village into the service. Nothing loth, they. Having heard of the divers merits of the Reverend Guy Cattacomb, they could but be desirous so shining a light should be secured amidst them. Miss Blake herself brought all her rare energy, her unflagging perseverance to the task. When she took a cause to heart, no woman was so indomitable as she. As may readily be supposed, a good deal had to be done to the room before it could be made what was wanted; but contrivance worked wonders. All the money Miss Blake could spare she freely applied: it was not sufficient, and she wrote to sundry friends, begging contributions. She next went, with Miss St. Henry and Miss Moore, to some of the houses in the vicinity, to every one where it might be safe to go, asking for aid. This personal canvass was not always successful. Some professed not to understand why a second church was required, and gave shillings instead of pounds. One old lady, however, had her generous instincts so worked upon by the eloquence of Miss Blake (as much as she could hear of it, for she was very deaf, and her companion declared afterwards that she believed all the while she was