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PRELUDE WHO that cares much to know the history of man, and how the mysterious mixture behaves under the varying experiments of Time, has not dwelt, at least briefly, on the life of Saint Theresa, has not smiled with some gentleness at the thought of the little girl wa~g$ forth one morning hand-in-hand with her still smaller brother, to go and seek ma~-dom$ in the country of the Moors? Out they toddled from rugged Avila,$ wide-eyed and helpless-looking as two fawns, but with human hearts,l$ already bea . . .
