And because this man, her beloved, again raised his finger to his lips she bowed her head in assent.

Yes, yes, she would be silent, she would be calm! Still in obedience to his gesture, to his look, she rose to her feet and drew back, allowing him to pass out through the open door; then she followed him humbly, her hope dead in her breast, so many sweet phantoms dead in her heart, her love turned to fear and veneration.
She followed him to the chapel which they call the upper church.

There, opposite the three small pointed arches inclosing deep shadows through which an altar looms, and where a silver cross shines against the dark phantoms of ancient paintings, Jeanne, upon a sign from him, knelt on the _prie-dieu_ placed on the right side of the great arch, which follows the line of the pointed vault, while he knelt on the one placed on the left.

On the drum of the arch a fourteenth century painter had depicted the Great Sorrow.

Through a high window on the left, the light fell upon the Mother of Sorrows--the _Dolorosa_; Benedetto was in the shadow.
His voice murmured in a scarcely audible tone: "Still without faith ?" Softly, as he himself had spoken, and without turning her head, she answered: "Yes." He was silent for a time, then he continued, in the same tone: "Do you long for it?
Could you regulate your actions as if you believed in God ?" "Yes, if I be not forced to lie." "Will you promise to live for the poor and the afflicted, as if each one of these were a part of the soul that you love ?" Jeanne did not answer.