ses.

He watched the priest curiously. How noble-looking he was! He felt sure
that he would have liked him in any other garb. What did his presence
here portend?

Paul had supposed that Opal was a Catholic; indeed had been but little
concerned what she professed. She had never appeared to him to be
specially religious, but, if she was, that absurd idea of self-sacrifice
for a dead mother she had never known might appeal to the love of
penance which is inherent in all of Catholic faith, and she might not
surrender to her great love for him.

The priest rose.

"Must you go, Father?" asked Opal.

"Yes!... I will call to-morrow, then?"

"Yes--tomorrow! And"--she suddenly threw herself upon her knees at his
feet--"your blessing, Father" she begged.

The priest laid a hand upon her head, and raised his eyes to Heaven.
Then, making the sign of the cross upon her forehead, he took her hands
in his, and gently raised her to her feet. She clung to his hands
imploringly.

"Absolution, Father," she pleaded.

He hesitated, his face quivering with emotions his eyes lustrous with
tears, a world of feeling in every line of his countenance.

"Child," he said hoarsely, "child! Don't tempt me!"

"But you _must_ say it, you know, or what will happen to me?"

The priest still hesitated, but her eyes would not release him till he
whispered, "_Absolvo te_, my daughter, and--God bless you!"

And releasing her hands, he bowed formally to Paul and hurried down the
broad stone steps and through the gate.

Opal watched him, a smile, half-remorseful and half-triumphant, upon her
face.

"What does it all mean?" asked Paul as he laid his hand upon her arm.

She laughed nervously. "Oh--nothing! Only--when I see one of those
long, clerical cassocks, I am immediately seized with an insane desire
to find the _man_ inside the priest!"

"Laudable, certainly! And you always succeed, I suppose?"

"Yes, usually!--why not?" And she laughed again. "Don't, Paul! I don't
want to quarrel with you!"

"We won't quarrel, Opal," he said. But the thought of the priest annoyed
him.

He seated himself beside her. "Have you no welcome for me?" he said.

She looked up at him, her eyes sweetly tender.

"Of course, Paul! I'm very glad to see you again--if you are a bad boy!"

He looked at her in amazement. "I, bad?--No," he said. And they laughed
again. But it was not the care-free laughter they had known at sea.
There was a strained note in the