Some day it will
all come right. You'll see it will. And meantime by the memory of your
mother--that blessed saint whom the Lord has made one of his own. . . ."
"Then what can I do?"
"Pray, my child, pray for strength to bear your trials and to resist all
temptation. Say a rosary for the Blessed Virgin every morning before
breaking your fast. I'll say a rosary, too. You'll see yet this is only
God's love for you, and you'll welcome His holy will."
While my dear father and friend was counselling me so I heard my husband
speaking in his loud, grating tones on the landing outside, and before I
could rise from my knees he had burst open the door and entered the
room.
His face was deadly white and he was like a man out of his right mind.
"Mary," he said, looking down at me where I knelt with my hands crossed
on my bosom, "when did I give you permission to introduce a priest into
my house? Isn't it enough for a man to have a wife who is a Catholic
without having the church and its ministers shunted into his home
without his permission?"
I was so taken aback by this furious assault that at first I could not
speak, but Father Dan interposed to defend me, saying with beautiful
patience, that his visit had been quite unexpected on my part, and that
I had asked him to stay overnight only because he was an old man, and
had had a long walk from his parish.
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