ense is killing me. The certainty would be easier to bear; and I
swear to you by Him who died for us that if you tell me I shall be
satisfied! Is she dead?"

"Not that," said John by a sudden impulse, and then there was an awful
silence.

"Not dead!" said Paul. "Then would to God that she were dead, for it must
be something worse, a thousand times worse!"

John felt as if the secret had been stolen from him in his sleep; but it
was gone, and he could say nothing. Brother Paul's lips trembled, his
respiration quickened, and he turned away and smote his head against the
wall and sobbed.

"I knew it all the time," he said. "Her sister went the same way, and I
could see that she was going too, and that was why I was so anxious. Oh,
my poor mother! my poor mother!"

For two days after that John saw no more of Brother Paul. "He is doing
his penance somewhere," he thought.

Meanwhile the snow was still falling, and when the brothers went out to
Lauds at 6 A.M. they passed through a cutting of snow which was banked up
afresh every morning, though the day had not then dawned. On the third
day John was the first to go down to the hall, and there he met Brother
Paul, with his spade in his hands, coming out of the courtyard. He looked
like a man who was melting before a fire as surely as a piece of wax.

"I am sorry now that I told you," said John.

Brother Paul hung his head.

"It is easy to see that you are suffering more than ever; and it is all
my fault. I will go to the Father and confess."

Between breakfast and Terce John carried out this intention. The Superior
was sitting before a handful of fire, in a little room that was darkened
by leather-bound books and by the flakes of snow which were falling
across the window panes.

"Father," said John, "I am a cause of offence to another brother, and it
is I who should be doing his penance." And then he told how he had broken
the observance which forbids any one to talk of his relations with the
world without

The Father listened with great solemnity.

"My son," he said, "your temptation is a testimony to the reality of the
religious life. Satan's rage against the home of consecrated souls is
terrible, and he would fain break in upon it if he could with worldly
thoughts and cares and passions. But we must conquer him by his own
weapons. Your penance, my son, shall be of the same kind with your
offence. Go to the door and take the place of the doorkeeper, and stay