oluntary sigh.

'When was that once?' demanded the Abbot.

'When you preached upon the sudden indisposition of our late Superior.'

'I remember it: That is more than two years ago. And were you
present? I knew you not at that time, Rosario.'

''Tis true, Father; and would to God! I had expired, ere I beheld that
day! What sufferings, what sorrows should I have escaped!'

'Sufferings at your age, Rosario?'

'Aye, Father; Sufferings, which if known to you, would equally raise
your anger and compassion! Sufferings, which form at once the torment
and pleasure of my existence! Yet in this retreat my bosom would feel
tranquil, were it not for the tortures of apprehension. Oh God! Oh
God! how cruel is a life of fear!--Father! I have given up all; I have
abandoned the world and its delights for ever: Nothing now remains,
Nothing now has charms for me, but your friendship, but your affection.
If I lose that, Father! Oh! if I lose that, tremble at the effects of
my despair!'

'You apprehend the loss of my friendship? How has my conduct justified
this fear? Know me better, Rosario, and think me worthy of your
confidence. What are your sufferings? Reveal them to me, and believe
that if 'tis in my power to relieve them....'

'Ah! 'tis in no one's power but yours. Yet I must not let you know
them. You would hate me for my avowal! You would drive me from your
presence with scorn and ignominy!'

'My Son, I conjure you! I entreat you!'

'For pity's sake, enquire no further! I must not ... I dare not...
Hark! The Bell rings for Vespers! Father, your benediction, and I
leave you!'

As He said this, He threw himself upon his knees and received the
blessing which He demanded. Then pressing the Abbot's hand to his
lips, He started from the ground and hastily quitted the apartment.
Soon after Ambrosio descended to Vespers (which were celebrated in a
small chapel belonging to the Abbey), filled with surprise at the
singularity of the Youth's behaviour.

Vespers being over, the Monks retired to their respective Cells. The
Abbot alone remained in the Chapel to receive the Nuns of St. Clare.
He had not been long seated in the confessional chair before the
Prioress made her appearance. Each of the Nuns was heard in her turn,
while the Others waited with the Domina in the adjoining Vestry.
Ambrosio listened to the confessions with attention, made many
exhortations, enjoined penance proportioned to each offence,