I had in my possession a miniature of my father, and no sooner had I met him here than I recognized the base being who had deserted my mother.  I kept my peace; but ere he died, he confessed that one sin—­heavier than everything beside—­weighed on his conscience.  In the agony and remorse of that hour my mother was revenged.  I told my parentage, and he discovered his child.  Feeling that I was your brother, he bade you remain here, claim my protection, and follow my advice.  But, Florence, hear me—­your misery touched my heart; a kindred feeling for you made me desire to serve you; but I swear now that if you hear not my voice, and return to the bosom of our church, your father’s soul shall linger in damnation, and my vengeance shall follow you.  You know not my power, and wo to you if you defy me!”

Had the specter-form of the deceased, leaving the shadowy band of the spirit-world, risen on the granite slab before them the two girls could not have been more startled.  Tightly they clung one to another, their eyes riveted on the face of the Padre.  There was a long pause; then Florence lifted herself proudly up, and cold and haughty was her tone:  “It is not for me to deny your statement.  If my father sinned, peace to his memory, and may God forgive him.  One so sinful and malignant as yourself cannot be invested with divine prerogatives.  I have known your intentions with regard to myself since the hour I knelt in confession.  I was destined for a convent, and I tacitly acquiesced in your plans, hoping that so secluded from the world I should be comparatively happy; but my feelings are changed on many points, and any further interference from you will be received with the scorn it merits.  No love for me actuates your movements, else you would have spared me the suffering of this hour.”

“You defy me, then?”

Florence had turned away, and heeded not his question; but Mary, clasping her hands, looked appealingly in his face; “Oh, Padre, by the tie which you declare exists between yourself and Florry—­for the sake of your lost parent—­do not put your threat in execution.  Spare an unprotected orphan.  You will not harm your sister!”

“Know you not, girl, that when a Jesuit priest takes the oath of his order, he tears his heart from his breast and lays it at the feet of his superior?  Appeal not to ties of relationship:  we repudiate them, and pity is unknown among us.”

With a shudder Mary joined her cousin, and rapidly and in perfect silence they retraced their steps homeward.  When they reached their gate, Mary would have opened it, but her cousin, taking her hand, led the way to their old seat beside the river.

Florence seated herself as near the water as possible, and then tightly clasping the hand she held, asked in a voice of suppressed emotion; “Tell me, Mary, is there a purgatory?”

“No, Florry; I think there is less foundation for that doctrine than any advanced by your church.”