at friend of his father's ... and
indeed of his friends ... her whole life devoted to religion and the
poor ... the recklessness of others had driven her from a convent where
she had been highly esteemed ... she had to be vindicated ... her case
was well on the way to trial ... nothing should be left undone to make
it a triumph. Rather dryly he promised his aid, wondering if he had
really caught the true meaning of the little woman's behavior. He gave
up suspicion when Judy provided Miss Conyngham with a character.

"This is the way of it," said Judy, "an' it's aisy to undhershtan' ...
thin agin I dinno as it's so aisy ... but annyway she was a sisther in a
convent out west, an' widout lave or license they put her out, bekase
she wudn't do what the head wan ordhered her to do. So now she's in New
York, an' Sisther Mary Mag Dillon is lukkin afther her, an' says she
must be righted if the Pope himself has to do it. We all have pity an
her, knowin' her people as we did. A smarter girl never opened a book in
Ameriky. An' I'm her godmother."

"Then we must do something for her," said the master kindly in
compliment to Judy. After his mother and Judy none appealed to him like
the women of the Everard home. The motherly grace of Mary and the
youthful charm of beautiful Mona attracted him naturally; from them he
picked up stray features of Arthur Dillon's character; but that which
drew him to them utterly was his love for Louis. Never had any boy, he
believed, so profoundly the love of mother and sister. The sun rose and
set with him for the Everards, and beautiful eyes deepened in beauty and
flashed with joy when they rested on him. Arthur found no difficulty in
learning from them the simple story of the lad's childhood and youth.

"How did it happen," he inquired of Mary, "that he took up the idea of
being a priest? It was not in his mind ten years back?"

"He was the priest from his birth," she answered proudly. "Just seven
months old he was when a first cousin of mine paid us a visit. He was a
young man, ordained about a week, ... we had waited and prayed for that
sight ten years ... he sang the Mass for us and blessed us all. It was
beautiful to see, the boy we had known all his life, to come among us a
priest, and to say Mass in front of Father O'Donnell--I never can call
him Monsignor--with the sweetest voice you ever heard. Well, the first
thing he did when he came to my house and Louis was a fat, hearty baby
in the