r self-respect had been cut through at
every blow, and it quivered and writhed within her. She hated her father
and she hated life with an intensity which added to her misery, and she
decided that she had made her last confession to any one but the priest,
who always forgave her. If she did wrong in the future and her father
found it out, well and good; but she would not be the one to tell him.

VII

It was a part of her punishment that she was to be locked in her room
until Helena left for New York; but Helena visited her every night in
her time-honoured fashion. Magdalena never told of the blows, but
confinement was a sufficient excuse to her restless friend for any
amount of depression; and Helena coaxed twenty dollars out of her father
and bought books and bonbons for the prisoner, which she carefully
disposed about her person before making the ascent. Magdalena hid her
presents in a bureau drawer; and it is idle to deny that they comforted
her. One of the books was "Jane Eyre," and another Mrs. Gaskell's Life
of Charlotte Bronte. They fired her with enthusiasm, and although she
cried all night after the equally tearful Helena had said good-bye to
her, she returned to them next day with undiminished enthusiasm.

The Sunday after Helena's departure she was permitted to go to church.
She was attended by her mother's maid, a French girl and a fervid
Catholic. St. Mary's Cathedral, in which Don Roberto owned a pew that he
never occupied, was at that time on the corner of California and Dupont
streets.

Magdalena prayed devoutly, but only for the reestablishment of her
self-respect, and the grace of oblivion for the degradation to which her
father had subjected her. Later, she intended to pray that he might be
forgiven, both by herself and God, and that his heart should be softened
to the poor; but not yet. She must be herself again first.

Her head had been aching for two days, the result of long confinement
and too many bonbons. It throbbed so during service that she slipped
out, whispering to the maid that she only wanted a breath of fresh air
and would be back shortly.

She stood for a few moments on the steps. Her head felt better, and she
noticed how peaceful the city looked; yet, as ever, with its suggestion
of latent feverishness. She had heard Colonel Belmont say that there was
no other city in the world like it, and as she stood there and regarded
the precipitous heights with their odd assortment