The countess's voice, which was low and broken in the beginning,
gathered strength as she made this renunciation of her worldly goods.

The abbe rose up as she finished, and took her trembling hand in his,
while, with a haughty elevation of his head, he answered:

"That everything may be quite clear, I beg you will understand,
countess, that neither I nor my order need, nor would accept, the
donation of your castle, your property, or your money. It is not our
custom to take advantage of weak-minded persons in a moment of
contrition, and to extort from them compensation for their sins in the
shape of their worldly goods. We have no desire to acquire property in
so sneaking and contemptible a manner, and therefore, countess, in the
name of my order, I decline to spend the night singing vespers in your
family vault, or the day in living on your fortune. This idea you may
dismiss altogether from your mind."

These words filled the countess with admiration. She had already felt
herself singularly attracted by this man. This proof of his
disinterestedness and indifference to worldly considerations completed
his dominion over her mind, and subjugated her to his authority. She
listened submissively while he continued his admonitions.

"For the rest," he said, "I should recommend you to abandon all ideas
of conventual life, which is quite unsuited to a person of your
nervous, excitable nature. You would find neither peace nor happiness;
on the contrary, you would be a prey to all manner of scruples and
disquieting thoughts. There are those who find a refuge and salvation
in a cloister; for you it would be a foretaste of damnation, and in
all probability you would end like the hermit who fled from the world
to pray to God, and instead of praying, cursed Him."

The eyes of the countess glared at this awful prospect, but she
murmured to herself, "True, quite true!"

"The recollection of your faults has banished you from the Church and
has robbed you of all power to pray," continued the priest, in a harsh
voice.

"True, quite true!" sobbed the countess, and beat her breast. "I can
never again enter a church, and I dare not pray." Then with a cry of
despair she threw herself at the feet of the abbe, and with feverish
strength clasped both his hands, while she screamed out, "Where shall
I go, if not to the Church of God? Who shall help me, if I cannot pray
to Him?"

The clergyman saw it was necessary to soothe her terrible