cumstance. He simply said nothing. He let her have her cry
out. When it was over, he remarked, "That's good now; that cry will do
you good." He spoke kindly, but very firmly. He knew that one little
exhibition of his own feelings would start her all over again.

When she was composed, she said, "O, but Father, what lovely boys you
have at the Club! Sure, they came in here in droves all the evening, and
every one of them knelt down and said the rosary for Willie. It did my
heart good. Forgive me, Father, for the cry I had. They gave me so much
comfort, I thought I was altogether resigned to God's blessed will. But
the sight of you, Father, brought the tears."

"Well, I am not surprised at that, my good woman. Did not our Lord have
tears of blood in Gethsemani? Yet He was resigned. The end of His prayer
was, 'Not my will, but Thine be done.' If we did not feel these things
keenly, there would be little merit in being resigned to God's will."

"God bless you, Father, for saying that. I was afraid I was rebellious."

"Not at all. You were only human, only a mother."

Again she started to cry, and the priest sat silent.

After a moment he said, "And now, Mrs. Daly, remember that by offering
up your sorrow to God for Willie, it becomes something precious in the
sight of heaven, and will benefit his soul."

"Thank you, Father, I'll do like you say. But Father, you should see
himself. I never thought he would take it so hard."

"Where is he?"

"Inside."

"Tell him to come here."

In a moment Mr. Daly came in. There were no signs of tears on his face,
just a drawn, sad expression. His eyes were sunken and dull. He began
first.

"O Father, it's the hand of God on me and I deserve it. If the home was
what it should be, it never would have come to this."

"Well, Michael, if it's the hand of God, and it is, it is for your good.
The hand of God will never lead you away from your true welfare."

"But it's the Missus I'm thinking about, Father. It will kill her. I can
stand it. But she can't. Oh, if the good God had taken me instead!" He
sighed heavily. "Of course, I feel Willie's going, too, almost as much
as the mother, for I had just found him again. All these years he was
lost to me, and mine the fault, the crime I should say, and it is God
that is punishing me."

"I believe it, Michael. And He is punishing you here rather than
hereafter. But His chastisements are different from men's. He draws good
from His punis