of such a keen and sympathetic observer as Dr. Newman. There
were a few wrinkles in the pallid cheeks, and one or two lines across
the white forehead, crowned with the clean white cap which our Irish
mothers wear. She looked, I thought, a little reproachfully at me as I
entered, but only welcomed me with that courteous reverence which makes
us priests so often humbled and ashamed. After a few words I inquired
for Alice.

"My poor child hasn't been well, your reverence. We were jealous that
you never asked for her."

I protested my utter ignorance of her illness, and inquired what was the
ailment.

"You can see yourself, your reverence," the poor mother said, silently
wiping away a tear. "But," she whispered, "don't pretend to see
anything. She feels it very much."

I passed into the little chamber and was making my apologies to the
poor child, when, in spite of her mother's warning, I started back,
shocked and horror-stricken.

"Good God," I could not help crying out, "what has happened to you, my
poor child?"

She smiled faintly, and then a tear rolled down the leprous cheek. Ay!
indeed! my poor little Madonna, my little child, whose beauty was such a
dream of Paradise, was changed. The large, lustrous eyes were untouched;
but the fair cheek was one hideous, leprous sore. The black, glossy hair
was now a few dirty wisps. The child, whose face and figure every one
turned around to look at a second time, was now a revolting mummy,
seamed and scarred by some terrible disease. I had presence of mind
enough to take up the thin, white hand; she picked the coverlet and said
nothing. Her heart was too full of her misery to utter a word. I could
only say:--

"My poor child! my poor child!"

I turned to the mother.

"This is too dreadful! What has happened?"

"Dreadful enough, your reverence," she cried; "but welcome be the will
of God!"

"But what has happened?" I cried.

Then I thought it would be a relief to the poor child's feelings to tell
me her own sad tale, so I said:--

"Never mind! Alice will tell me all herself. Now, my child, tell me
all."

She did, with all the humility and such gentle submission to God's
decree that I wept freely. It would appear that on the afternoon of that
November concert, Alice, like so many other girls, was very much
engrossed in her preparations for the evening. She had studied the
"Young Lady's Journal" and several other works of interest and
usefulness, and all day lon