allowed to sit in
an armchair. After that his recovery was more rapid.

As he became stronger Desmond found himself a prey to the most dreadful
spiritual desolation. The Faith that he had again found and accepted as
a great gift, with an outburst of thanksgiving, seemed to be withdrawn
from him. For days and days doubts and misgivings troubled him so that
he walked as a blind man, gropingly. And with the doubts there came a
myriad of evil thoughts to torment him. He could not read nor pray; he
had to cling blindly to Acts of Faith and resignation.

It was fortunate for him in those days that Father Healy had left him
under the care of an old Jesuit Father. Day after day the old priest
visited him, and while he was with him Desmond was at peace. But no
sooner was the good Father out of the room than the blackness of
desolation closed around him.

"Is this to go on for ever?" he asked the priest.

"No, my son. You are weak in body and new to the Faith. You have
weakened yourself during the years of doubt. In a short time you will
find your feet again and walk confidently. Go frequently to the
Sacraments, and trust in God."

Thus did it happen with Desmond. Slowly the doubts and difficulties left
him, so that he wondered that they had ever caused him uneasiness. But
daily in his Acts of Thanksgiving he praised his Divine Redeemer who had
lifted him from the valley of desolation to an absolute certainty of
Faith.

This was the beginning of a new life to him. During his convalescence he
entered more deeply into his religion than he had ever done before.
Slowly its great beauty unfolded itself to him; he found it so wonderful
in its perfection, so satisfying that he marvelled at his previous
lukewarmness. It was just at this time that a visitor came to see him.

Desmond was sitting up in an easy chair; the nurse had gone to another
patient while Father Healy and Molly were in Grey Town. Kathleen, having
made her brother comfortable, had slipped out for a short breath of air,
leaving Desmond in charge of Black, the incomparable man-servant. A ring
at the door bell, a vision of a beautiful face and a graceful figure
becomingly dressed, conquered Black. His orders were to admit no
visitors, but he was so fascinated by the apparition that he carried the
card in to Desmond, and a moment later Sylvia Custance was sitting
beside the sick man's chair.

Desmond looked up as she entered to judge how the years had treated her.