Both were women.

One was at her prayers at one of the side altars; the other was seated against a column at the upper end of the nave.

Rowland walked to the altar, and paid, in a momentary glance at the clever statue of the saint in death, in the niche beneath it, the usual tribute to the charm of polished ingenuity.

As he turned away he looked at the person seated and recognized Christina Light.

Seeing that she perceived him, he advanced to speak to her.
She was sitting in a listless attitude, with her hands in her lap; she seemed to be tired.