" And dropping the reins on her
horse's neck, she, with clasped hands and upturned eyes, began to
chant:
"O Sanctissima! O Purissima!
Ora, Ora, pro nobis," etc.
Music at once so sweet and orthodox from a heretic mouth, attracted
the muleteer's attention, and turning, he sat sideways in his saddle
to listen. This exciting old Moodie's suspicion, he pushed his horse
close up to Lady Mabel's, and as soon as she paused, said: "My lady,
what is that you are singing?"
"A hymn to the Virgin."
"A hymn to the Virgin!" he repeated, horror-struck.
"Yes; it is in Latin, you know. Have you never been to any of the
churches in Elvas, to 'assist' at the service and enjoy the music?"
"God forbid that I should countenance any of their idolatrous rites."
"Their music, however, is excellent, and has a grandeur suited to the
worship of God. You lose much in not hearing it, and may, at least,
let me amuse myself by singing a Popish hymn."
"You may amuse yourself by turning Papist in time. What begins in jest
often ends in earnest; and yours, my lady, will not be the first soul
that has been caught by such gear as the sweet sounds and glittering
shows of idolatry.
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