Hugh. After many years my
husband died." The penitent paused.

"Mother, another thing comes back to me; but I have confessed it
already. Shall I repeat it?"

"No, my daughter, not if it touches the oath that lay heavy on your
heart."

"I thought my first child was dead. For thirty years I had not seen him.
But the pathways of our lives crossed at last, and the woman who nursed
him came to this house four days ago."

"Here?"

"Mother, my son, the child of that first false union, my darling, for
whom I wept scalding tears long, long years ago; my Paul, whose loss was
all but the loss of his mother's soul, my son is a thief and an
outcast."

The lips of the superior moved again in prayer.

"He is the man known to the world as Paul Drayton--to me as Paul
Lowther."

"My dear daughter, humble yourself in the midst of so awful a judgment.
Do you say Drayton?--Drayton, who, as I hear, was to-day tried and
sentenced?"

"No--yes--how shall I tell you?--the same and not the same. Mother, the
crime was committed by my son Paul Lowther, the sentence was pronounced
on my son Paul Ritson."

"My dear daughter--"

"I was in the court and heard all; and I alone knew all--I alone, alone!
Bear with me that I transgressed the law of this holy order. Think, oh!
my kind mother, think that the nun was yet the woman, and, above all,
the mother. Yes, I heard all. I heard the charge that convicted my son
Paul Lowther. He was guilty before God and man. But the prisoner in the
dock was my son Paul Ritson. I knew him, and believed him when he denied
the name they gave him. Ah, me, my heart bled!"

"What did you do, my daughter?"

"Mother, I was weak, very weak. I could not see my duty clearly. An
awful conflict was rife within me. I could not justify the one man
without condemning the other. And both were the children of my bosom."

"Fearful, fearful! But, my daughter, the one was guilty and the other
innocent."

"Yes, yes; a thousand times yes; but then there was myself. How could I
punish the guilty without revealing the secret sin that had been thirty
years hidden in my heart? And my poor, weak spirit shrunk within me, and
I sat silent amid all."

"My daughter, we must crucify our spiritual pride."

"Yes, yes; but there was the love of my son, Paul Ritson--he thought me
a good woman even yet. How could I confess to that sinful past and not
loose the love of the only human soul that held me pure and true?
Mother, it is ve