hered in her eyes.

"Your father, child!--why, your father died when you were ten years
old--what can your father, (Heaven rest his soul in Paradise!) have to
do with this present perversity of yours?"

"You did not know him, Padre; you did not know that mother's illness
was caused by him alone."

"And how?"

"By his ill treatment of her; he beat her, and trampled upon her. I
well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy--she
never said a word, and did everything he bid her. Yet he would beat her
so, my heart felt like to break. I used to cover up my head, and
pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night. And then when he saw her
lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and
kiss her, till she screamed, and said he smothered her. Mother forbade
me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these
long years since father died, she has never been able to get well
again. And if she should soon die, which God forbid! I know who it was
that killed her."

The little curate's head wagged slowly to and fro; he seemed uncertain
how far to acquiesce in the young girl's reasons. At length he said:
"Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven!--And turn your thoughts from
such distressing pictures, Laurella; there may be better days in store
for you, which will make you forget the past."

"Never shall I forget that!"--she said, and shuddered;--"and you must
know, Padre, it is the reason why I have resolved to remain unmarried.
I never will be subject to a man, who may beat and then caress me. Were
a man now to want to beat or kiss me, I could defend myself; but mother
could not:--neither from his blows or kisses, because she loved him.
Now I will never so love a man as to be made ill and wretched by him."

"You are but a child; and you talk like one who knows nothing at all of
life. Are all men like that poor father of yours? do all illtreat their
wives, and give vent to every whim, and gust of passion? Have you never
seen a good man yet? or known good wives, who live in peace and harmony
with their husbands?"

"But nobody ever knew how father was to mother;--she would have died
sooner than complained, or told of him--and all because she loved him.
If this be love;--if love can close our lips when they should cry out
for help; if it is to make us suffer without resistance, worse than
even our worst enemy could make us suffer, then I say, I never will be
fond of mort