Since “Miss Levison” was obliged to keep her place in the choir, it was well that she was an enthusiast in music, and thus able to lose all sense of care and trouble in the exercise of her divine art.

But for the music she would scarcely have got through the morning service.

And very much relieved she felt when the benediction was at length pronounced, and she was at liberty to leave the chapel.

“Oh, madam, this mystery is killing me!  I have seen, or fancied I have seen, the Duke of Hereward in the church three times; yet no one else has been able to see him!  If it was the duke, he has come here for some fixed purpose.  He has, probably, by means of those expert London detectives, traced me out, and discovered my residence under this sacred roof.  He has followed me here to give me trouble!” said Salome, as soon she found herself alone with the superior.

“My child,” said the lady, “I must reiterate that you have nothing—­he has everything to fear!  I do not know, of course, for even you are not sure that you have really seen him.  If you have, he is in this immediate neighborhood.  If he is, why, then, the fact must be known to nearly every one outside the convent walls.  The Duke of Hereward is not a man whose presence could be ignored.  To-morrow, therefore, I will cause inquiries to be made, and we shall be sure to find out whether he is really here or not.”

“Thanks, good mother, thanks.  It will be a great relief to have this question decided in any way,” said Salome, gratefully.

The mother-superior smiled, gave the benediction, and retired.

At vespers that evening, Salome looked all over the church in anxious fear of seeing the form that haunted her imagination; but her “ghost” did not appear, and, after all, she scarcely knew whether she was relieved or disturbed by his absence.

The next day, Monday, the abbess set diligent inquiries on foot to discover whether the Duke of Hereward, or any other stranger of any name or title whatever, had been seen in the neighborhood of St. Rosalie’s for many days.  Winter was not the season for strangers there.

After this, the Duke of Hereward (or his ghost) was seen no more in the chapel.

Every time Salome accompanied the sisterhood to the chapel, she peered through the choir-screen, in much anxiety as to whether she should see the duke, or his apparition, among the congregation below; but she never saw him there again, nor could she decide, in the conflict between her love and her sense of duty, whether she most desired or deplored his absence.

So the days passed into weeks, and nothing more was heard or seen of the Duke of Hereward.

The Christmas holidays came to an end after Twelth-Day; the pupils returned to the school, and the academy buildings grew gay with the exuberance of young life.

Salome, who, during many years of her childhood and youth, had shared this bright and cheery school-life, now saw nothing of it.