st say that it is not true that Father Ugo, or any other
priest that ever lived, charged any money for hearing confession.
Confession was ordained by Christ, our Lord; and those who do not go to
confession cannot lead a pure life of virtue, nor preserve the love of
God in their souls."

"Indeed, miss!" said Amanda, with a sneer. "I see the priest has been
giving you a lesson. As if none but Papists knew what purity or virtue
was--the low set of Irish that they are!"

"Our books of devotion say as much," said Bridget; "and it stands to
reason, for if Catholics who frequent confession have enough to do to
keep themselves undefiled, how much more difficult is it for those who
do not confess at all? Besides, by confession restitution is enforced,
and whatever your neighbor loses by fraud is restored."

"Is it not strange, then, that the Irish Papist who robbed your mother
of the money does not think of restoring it? And you say he had the
priest's certificate of confession in his pocket?"

"That is not the fault of confession, miss. May be he would make
restitution yet, if God give him grace."

"I have been listening to you, miss, this half hour," interposed Murty,
who now entered from the back kitchen where he was smoking, "and I am
really shocked to find you tamper so with the virtue of this innocent
girl. You first attempt to reach her pure soul through her vanity, by
praising her dress and accomplishments; and she nobly rejects the
temptation. Next you attempt to conquer her fortitude, by maligning and
ridiculing the most sacred institutions of her holy religion; and here
again you fail. It is the strangest thing in the world, in my mind, that
you should continually annoy that poor orphan, and stranger again, that
her noble fortitude, her piety, her faith, fidelity, and other heroic
virtues have not converted you, and those who have been for years
witness of them, to something like admiration of them."

"But she is so obstinate, Murt," said the old maid.

"Yes," said he, "and in that she is right. Yourself had an opportunity
of information on all these subjects, and, I understand, discussed them
at length with the priest in person. You ought to know better, then,
than to repeat to this child a pure fable, that you dare not hint in the
presence of the priest; namely, that he levies a tax of two shillings or
half a dollar on every penitent whose confession he hears."

"That is generally believed," said she, ashame