All others he was willing to forget.

They might be buried in consecrated ground, but he would have had them buried deep, and never brought to light again.
It was from the lips of such a tutor, that the child learnt her easy task.

Already impressed, beyond all telling, by the silent building and the peaceful beauty of the spot in which it stood--majestic age surrounded by perpetual youth--it seemed to her, when she heard these things, sacred to all goodness and virtue.

It was another world, where sin and sorrow never came; a tranquil place of rest, where nothing evil entered.
When the bachelor had given her in connection with almost every tomb and flat grave-stone some history of its own, he took her down into the old crypt, now a mere dull vault, and showed her how it had been lighted up in the time of the monks, and how, amid lamps depending from the roof, and swinging censers exhaling scented odours, and habits glittering with gold and silver, and pictures, and precious stuffs, and jewels all flashing and glistening through the low arches, the chaunt of aged voices had been many a time heard there, at midnight, in old days, while hooded figures knelt and prayed around, and told their rosaries of beads.

Thence, he took her above ground again, and showed her, high up in the old walls, small galleries, where the nuns had been wont to glide along--dimly seen in their dark dresses so far off--or to pause like gloomy shadows, listening to the prayers.