After walking about with him a little while in embarrassing silences, divided only by his cursory explanations of the monuments and other objects, and almost fearing he might produce a marriage licence, I went to a door in the south transept which opened into the sacristy.
I glanced through it, towards the small altar at the upper end.

The place was empty save of one figure; and she was kneeling here in front of the beautiful altarpiece by Bellini.

Beautiful though it was she seemed not to see it.

She was weeping and praying as though her heart was broken.

She was my sister Caroline.