nd comfort you are to Senora Carrillo, in her poor
health, with three children, who would be a sad burden to her without
you. Look at the place you fill in the household, where you are, in
truth, the housekeeper. Is not your life full of good work? What more
could you find in a convent? I know, my daughter, you wish for the life
of devotion to be found there, and that you look on it as a life of
rapture and uplifting. That is all very well for many poor women
who have no especial sphere of usefulness to fill in the world; but,
Apolinaria, I should deeply mourn the day that saw you become one of
them. Do not think I am decrying the convent--far be from me such a
thing! But I believe, I know, God never intended that his creatures
should isolate themselves in any such way from the duties among which He
had placed them."

The Father had risen to his feet as he uttered the last sentence, and,
with some agitation, took a few steps back and forth in the room. He was
an earnest, deep-souled man, eager and passionate, almost to the point
of inspiration, when aroused from his usual reserved manner. Apolinaria
was greatly beloved by him, and it was with genuine pain that he had
heard her wish.

"Apolinaria," he said at last, after a few moments of silence on the
part of both, "hija mia, have I made you see this matter clearly? Can
not you trust me to decide this weighty question for you? Is your heart
so set on the quiet life of prayer, cut off from so much of the work,
without which, Saint James tells us, faith is dead? Do not decide now,"
he added, as Apolinaria made an uncertain attempt to speak, "take plenty
of time, daughter; think it over during the next week, and then come to
see me again and let me know."

"I thank you, Father, and I shall consider what you have said to me.
Will you pray for me that I may be guided aright?"

"Surely, my daughter," replied the Father, and laying his hands on her
head as Apolinaria knelt before him, continued in slow, measured tones:
"May the Mother of God help you to choose that which will ever be most
pleasing and acceptable to her Son, our Lord Jesus Christ."

"Amen," whispered Apolinaria.

During the next few days Apolinaria thought of Father Pujol's words. It
was a great disappointment to her to give up her long-cherished plan;
but from the moment of leaving the Father she knew in her heart what the
outcome would be. Yet it cost her a pang of regret as she thought of the
quiet wa