t were treading.
It revealed the gulf into which she had been about to plunge. Upon such
a flood of light she could not close her eyes. She reflected that Paul
had cried, "Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do," and he had been sent
to Ananias, the priest, "who would tell him what he was to do." She did
not stop to marvel why the Lord had not Himself told him what to do
directly, but instinctively did what Paul did, obeyed instructions and
sought the priest.

It was now nearly noon. Althea had been sleepless, and had not tasted
food since the preceding evening. She looked around for Mary, that she
might accompany her to the priest's house, where she rightly supposed
the Missioner to have taken up his abode. She saw not Mary, who had gone
home before the sermon, supposing that as her mistress had had no
breakfast, she must stand in need of dinner. Instead of Mary, Althea
beheld Kitty Brett, one of Mary's comrades, whom she had often seen at
her house.

Kitty Brett had one of the sunniest faces in the world; and it smiled
all over with willingness as Althea made her request. O yes, she would
go right over with her, and, if she wished, would introduce her to
Father Ryan, the parish priest, whom she would at first be likely to
see. Moreover, her mistress had gone to the country with her children,
so she had nothing to prevent her remaining during the little time Mrs.
Rush might wish to prolong her visit.

Father Ryan evinced no surprise, however much he might have felt, on
meeting this unaccustomed visitor. Althea was in a state for no
preambles and no delays. She at once inquired if she could be permitted
an interview with the Missioner.

The priest hesitated for a moment. Had she been a Catholic, he would
have put her off until after the laborer of the morning had been
refreshed. Reflecting, he withdrew, and very soon after, invited her
into another room, where she found herself alone with the true priest of
God.

Oh! Althea, thy mother, who gave thee to God at the first moment of thy
existence, and at the last of hers, who had aspirations for the truth
which God may have regarded, must have wept tears of joy, and called
upon the angels of Heaven to rejoice over her daughter that repented.

CHAPTER XXVII.

ALTHEA'S TRIALS.

Althea's conversion from error to truth, from premeditated crime, though
she was criminal almost unconsciously, to firm amendment, was one of
those miracles in which even Protestanti