h his white cheeks and quivering lips, and made an effort
to eat his breakfast.

The reader for the week recited the Scripture for the day, and then took
up the book which the brothers were hearing at their meals. It was the
Life and Death of Father Ignatius of St. Paul, and the chapter they had
come to dealt with certain amusing examples of vanities and foibles. An
evil spirit might have selected it with special reference to the
incidents of the morning, for at every fresh illustration the Father
Minister squirmed on his seat, and the brothers looked across at him and
laughed with a spice of mischief, and even a touch of malice.

John's eyes were on the door, and his heart was quivering, but the
messenger did not return during breakfast, and when it was over the
Superior rose without waiting for him and led the way to the community
room.

A fire was burning in the wide grate, and the room was cheerful with
reflected sun-rays, for the sun was shining in the courtyard and
glistening on the frosty boughs of the sycamore. It was a beautiful New
Year's morning, and the Father began to tell some timely stories. In the
midst of the laughter that greeted them the lay brother returned and
delivered his message. Brother Paul could not be found, and there was not
a sign of him anywhere in the house.

"That's strange," said the religious.

"Perhaps he is in his cell," said the Father.

"No, he is not there," said the messenger, "and his bed has not been
slept in."

"Now, that explains something," said the Father. "I thought he didn't
answer when I knocked at his door in the morning, but my ears grow dull
and my eyes are failing me, and I told myself perhaps----"

"It's very strange'" said the religious, with looks of astonishment.

"But perhaps he staid all night at his penance in the church," said the
Father.

"Apparently his hat did so at all events," said one of the brothers. "I
saw it lying with his lamp on the stall in front of me."

There was silence for a moment, and then the Father said with a smile:

"But my children are so amusing in such matters! Only this morning I had
to reprove Brother Storm for losing his hat somewhere, and now Brother
Paul----"

By an involuntary impulse, obscure to themselves, the brothers turned
toward John, who was standing in the recess of one of the windows with
his pale face looking out on the sunshine.

John was the first to speak.

"Father," he said, "I have something to