I had travelled with my father when I went abroad.
You must remember, for you came to my assistance."

"I turned the conversation, seeing that it embarrassed you."

"But you must have guessed."

"On account of your father's position at St. Joseph's, I had heard of
you.... I had heard of your intimacy with Sir Owen Asher, and the life
of an opera singer is not one to which a good Catholic can easily
reconcile herself."

As they sat on either side of the table, Evelyn was attracted, and then
absorbed, by the distinctive appearance of the priest. His mind was in
his face. The long, high forehead, with black hair growing sparely upon
it; the small, brilliant eyes, and the long, firm line of the jaw, now
distinct, for the head was turned almost in profile. The face was a
perfect symbol of the mind behind it; and the intimate concurrence of
the appearance and the thought was the reason of its attractiveness. It
was the beauty of unity; here was a man whose ideas are so deeply rooted
that they express themselves in his flesh. In him there was nothing
floating or undecided; and in the line of the thin, small mouth and the
square nostrils, Evelyn divined a perfect certainty on all points. In
this way she was attracted to his spiritual guidance, and desired the
support of his knowledge, as she had desired Ulick's knowledge when she
was studying Isolde. Ulick's technical knowledge had been useful to her;
upon it she had raised herself, through it she had attained her idea.
And in the same way Monsignor's knowledge on all points of doctrine
would free her from doubt. Then she would be able to rise above the
degradation of earthly passion to that purer and higher passion, the
love of God. Doctrine she did not love for its own sake as Monsignor
loved it. She regarded it as the musician regards crotchets and quavers,
as a means of expression; and she now felt that without doctrine she
could not acquire the love which she desired; without doctrine she could
not free herself from the bondage of the flesh, and every moment the
temptation to give her soul into his keeping grew more irresistible.
Rising from her chair, she said--

"Will you hear my confession now, Monsignor?"

"The priest looked at her, his narrow, hard face concentrated in an
ardent scrutiny.

"Certainly, my child, if you think you are sufficiently prepared."

"I must confess now; I could not put it off again;" and glancing round
the room, she slipped suddenly u