and your soul spotless; but the eye of God, poor
afflicted creature, is keener than that of his ministers. I see the
truth too late; for you have misled even me."

Hearing these words from lips that had never spoken other than peaceful
and pleasant words to her, Agathe rose suddenly in her bed and opened
her eyes wide, with terror and distress.

"Tell me! tell me!" she cried.

"Be comforted," said the priest. "Your punishment is a proof that you
will receive pardon. God chastens his elect. Woe to those whose misdeeds
meet with fortunate success; they will be kneaded again in humanity
until they in their turn are sorely punished for simple errors, and are
brought to the maturity of celestial fruits. Your life, my daughter,
has been one long error. You have fallen into the pit which you dug for
yourself; we fail ever on the side we have ourselves weakened. You gave
your heart to an unnatural son, in whom you made your glory, and you
have misunderstood the child who is your true glory. You have been so
deeply unjust that you never even saw the striking contrast between the
brothers. You owe the comfort of your life to Joseph, while your other
son has pillaged you repeatedly. The poor son, who loves you with no
return of equal tenderness, gives you all the comfort that your life
has had; the rich son, who never thinks of you, despises you and desires
your death--"

"Oh! no," she cried.

"Yes," resumed the priest, "your humble position stands in the way of
his proud hopes. Mother, these are your sins! Woman, your sorrows and
your anguish foretell that you shall know the peace of God. Your son
Joseph is so noble that his tenderness has never been lessened by the
injustice your maternal preferences have done him. Love him now; give
him all your heart during your remaining days; pray for him, as I shall
pray for you."

The eyes of the mother, opened by so firm a hand, took in with one
retrospective glance the whole course of her life. Illumined by this
flash of light, she saw her involuntary wrong-doing and burst into
tears. The old priest was so deeply moved at the repentance of a being
who had sinned solely through ignorance, that he left the room hastily
lest she should see his pity.

Joseph returned to his mother's room about two hours after her confessor
had left her. He had been to a friend to borrow the necessary money to
pay his most pressing debts, and he came in on tiptoe, thinking that his
mother was asleep.