to her trembling knees, and her voice was all but
suspended in an agony of shame.

"Mother, I flung away God's better gift than life! Oh, how shall I tell
you? Your foot trembles, reverend mother. You are a holy woman, and know
nothing of the world's temptations."

"Hush, my daughter; I am as great a sinner as yourself."

"I cannot tell you. Mother, mother, you see I cannot."

"It is for your soul's weal, my daughter."

"I had tried to serve God, and He had seen my shame. What was left to me
but the world, the world, the world! Perhaps the world itself would have
more mercy. My kind mother, have I not told you yet?"

The superior made the sign of the cross.

"Ah, my daughter! the enemy of your soul was with you then. You should
not have ceased to lift your hands to Heaven in supplication and prayer.
You should have prostrated yourself three days and nights in the tribune
before the Holy Sacrament."

The penitent raised her pale face.

"In less time I was a lost and abandoned woman."

The superior told a few beads with trembling fingers. Then she lifted
the cross that hung from her girdle, and held it out to the sister.

"I thought of my child, and prayed that he might be dead. I thought of
him who was not my husband, and my heart grew cold and hard. Mother, my
redemption came. Yes, but with it came the meaning of the fearful
words, too late. Amid the reeling madness of the life that is mocked
with the name of gay, I met a good man. Yes, holy mother, a good man.
Mother, he now sleeps there!"

Her pale face, serene and solemn, was lifted again, and the hand that
held the crucifix was raised above her head.

"I loathed my life. He took me away from it--to the mountains--to
Scotland, and a child was born. Mother, it was only then that I awoke as
from a trance. It seemed as if a ring of sin begirt me. Tears--ah, me!
what tears were shed. But rest and content came at last, and then we
were married."

"My daughter, my daughter, little did I think when I received your vows
that the enemy of your soul had so mastered you."

"Listen a little longer, holy mother. The child grew to be the image of
my darling, my Paul--every feature, every glance the same. And partly to
remind me of my lost one, and partly to make me forget him forever, I
called the second child Paul. Mother, the years went by in peace. The
past was gone from me. Only its memory lay like a waste in my silent
heart. I had another son, and called him