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And then remember your
mother, too--that saint in heaven who suffered so long and was patient
. . . Everything will depend upon you, my child. In matters of this kind
the woman is the stronger vessel. Be strong for him also. Renounce your
guilty love, my daughter--"
"But I cannot, I cannot," I said. "I love him, and I cannot give him
up!"
"Let us ask God to help you," said Father Dan, and still holding my hand
he drew me down to my knees and knelt beside me. The room was dark by
this time, and only the sullen glow from the peat fire was on our faces.
Then in a low voice, so low that it was like his throbbing whisper
before the altar, when he raised the Sacred host, Father Dan prayed for
me (calling me his dear child whom God had committed to his care) that I
might keep my marriage vow and be saved from the temptation to break it.
His beautiful prayer or his throbbing voice, or both together, had a
great effect upon me, and when I rose to my feet, I felt stronger.
Although Martin was as dear to me as ever, I thought I saw my way at
last.


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