Pere Severin

The grey cherubs tiiat looked down troon tlie vaulted celling of st. Chrysos- were ha'.f relied with wn of incensé smoie. Ttoe old Bacrlstaa cougblng 'criily to himself flltted here and bhere albout the great gold altar. putting out the caadles fchai feaiced il with their üght. Th rustte ut' crisp aorta and a eubdued marmer oí volees trom tbe cool Bhadows ol Wie eathedral corridors announced tiiat sume of the worshipera still lingered. A few wonnen were grouped near the vestibule ihat led fco the confesional. As inini time to time they turned their eyes toward the sildim1 grille iin odor oí white rose and geranium was dlffused from their garments and ming-led wlth the odor of incensé tbat still lingered in the air. The duty of confession to-day had a apei tal Interest. They were curloua to have au interview with the new priest. of whom 80 much had been ■writteu and said. He was Httle known in Franee. this same Pere Severin, but mucli had been pubuahed about his work. He was still a young man; he had aerved the chureh but barely tlirec years. in that short time he had laborcd among the wild tribes of Algeria, had twlce harrowly ëscaped martyrdom at the hands ol the Amazona and Dahomey. They spoke at home df a Bcartet i.-ir for hilm. A flutter among the sklrts, a gilet oi worldly perfume- Per.' Severin awaited anoHier penitent, siic eame tortb timidly from the shadows of one of the flutcd pillara. The other ladlea had not noticed hor presemce, ghe was so sliirht and the corridor was dim. They looked ou lier frowningly as on au intruder. Sh ndvaiK'Cd slouiy toward the confessional -vitli falterins steps, sobMng softly, her face bidden in a white baptistc hanilkcrcliiof. SIu was all in black, vet the natural eoquetry of a voman of the worhl was displayod in tilie arrangement oi enrUng brown hair and toque of China crepe. Arrived before the confessional, she hesltated and looked around, as if seekine a way to escape. Khe raieed her tear-dimmed oyes and 88w through the gilded'bars the shaved head of the priest bent in prayer. A yellow slialt of light foll apon the figure oí Christ on the -vvall above him. She bowed her head and entered. The priest slowly raieed lii.s face, and his soft eyes feil on the penitent kneeling before him. Slie lid not look up; ehe was too asaamed. Her face waa still hidden in lier handkerchief- the sobs shook her atender form. "Speak, my daughter," he eald, gently. "Lay tbe barden of yoar bíqs at the feet of God. His nrercy and lore are eternal. He will dry your tears - speak." Then, with her face still hldden ia her handkerchief, she spoke, so low he had to bend his head to listen. "I know I cannot Qiope for merey now. It is too late. But I wil! teil you all and you eball judge. God shall- if years of penitence eau atone for sueh a sin a.s mine." "Go on." siic began in a qnlvertng voiee, broken witta sobs. "I was tlhe only daugïrter of a ijood man, dead. Froin a cliild I have been petted, humoral, epoiled When I grew to bt' ;i woman L was silly. vain. extravagant, f oud of ndmiration dress. My lovers wnv many, they amueed me. Most ol them liad no hearta to break. They were men of the world who soon forgot their old wounds in the wnlrl ol pleasure. But one - one - " shc covered her face with her handkerchief again and wept. ■But ome yon loved," he added, gently. "Tes- yee," eagerly. One IreaUy loved. He was so different, ao iliöerent froni the reet, hls face waa pale and sad, like- like a prlests." Perc Scv.rin (lrow nearer the grating. He could hear MmseU breathlng. "He hated the gay world in wliich I moved," she went on. "He said I was worthy of better things; that I had In me the niakinu oí a good woman, tmt that I was building upon sand; that niy heart was hardeaing against all good tliings. He wanted to niany me - to take me out of the Whirlpool before it was too lato. My soul was in (langer; he wiahed to saine it." Bbe paused and bid her face for a moment. The prie.st's In-ad was on hls breast, the cross above lus throat quivered with hls heavy breathing, "I sa-w tiicni all leave my elde and go to seek inv plcasures in th-p world. My court deserted- I marricd liim." "And did you love him?" asked the prlest in an undertone. "Yes - Gtod knows how much- and .vet-" "And yet in a momeint of malness, in an hour filien tlie evil anprol Ín me was triumphant- I threw my üfe's happinoss iwiiy - J tramplod on his heart- I becamo a miserable wonian." Sho bowed hor henil on tilo CU8hlons. Bhe wep1 as i her heart would break. Pere Sovorin raisod liis íace. It was cold and stern. His eyes, unmovid a1 fir_,-it, kindled wlth a j)itying k'ow as they fell on tho quivsrlng figure before hini. He gpoko, and his volee was dry and husky. "What tlion- wliat tlion?" he mnrmured. "You married a good man- you betrayed him-ho-w- confesa all! My- my dnug-htor. that yon may be iorglven." Sho grew moro compoaed, as if the trnrden she had borne so lang was eesier to bear. "I wil! teil you cvorythiug. Oh, I :s not puilty- not as guilty is you think. After we -vere married he visbed to taike me out of the gay, W'orldly set in wtdoh I had moved. I rebelled, but consented at last. l'oimonthsl lived quietly llke a dignlfÉd wife. "But one day the old love of admiration, the old desire to Yisit again the gay rclc in whicll ] had moved, tempteil me. I resisted tor a time, imt the Avish was greater than tlu will. One day I mei a friend, a oountess, wlio had known me i:i the old gay days of coquetry. SBe iound me chionged. She thoughi I had lefi the city, beeause qo one s,-iw me aaiymore. sin' aptraided me (or llTing a Ule o! a recluse. She Invlted me fio go on am excursión iluwn the rivcr tlic mxt day -in a pleasure barge. "All my oíd frienda of the days of tollywere to 'be there. I waseagerto go - I tras thlrsting for ihr mad Uíe I had once led- I went homfl wlth my cheeks burnlng aud my eyea sparkllng. I told my husband ol the invitation - I told lnin how much I wantod to see my oíd hienda again. He remlnded me oí' a promiae made to liim Ix'forc marrlage tihat I ■svould cut Idoso Irom the past, that I would glve np the Collies, t.he íriends vho liad trled to ruin my Ufo. lio refused me permisslon. There were sorae hot words between us- I disobeyed liim- I went." ■'Tliis is not all." It w8 the prlest ■vho sixko. His Toice aeemed far away likc an echo from the vaulted (.ul!cli-al. "Tliat is not all." he peated. She liwikcil up itli a. hall trightened look in her ovos. "Oh, I un aot wbolly to blame- not wholly," sho murmured eagerly. "It was lus fault- his, the ooward!" between her hall closed lips. "Yes. it was his fault!" Was that an echo of her words or had the yoimu prieel repeated her speech"? "I mean no dishomor toward my husband. God knows it. He planned - -nretch that he -was- that I should be too late- for- the- boat. Too late! Then " Her llps moved, but no sound carne trom them. "Go on," commanded the priest, sternly. Then- t was the next morniíiK - I returned home- I found the house closed. My husband liad pone away; where, no ne knew. He had loft Paris - I had no money, aio friends." 'I have lived honestly over since. I have tried to do Lood, to earn forKiveness for my sin, f rom my husband, f rom God. I was aahamed before today to enter a cliurch to confess; but to-day- " The priest had risen. His face was in the liffht. She looked into his calm grey eyes, she saw his worn white cheeks. ■Who are you'?" she erled with a sob. "Pere Severin!" "You are not. you are not! Yon are my husband - you are PhilHppe, whom 1 loved. whom I lost!" She had pushed asido the grating wlth her nervous hands, she sunk at his feet, plucked at his robe. ''I have confessed to yon! Forgive me as you wish to be forgiven." He stood silent, his face unmoved as the stone chamber above. She had elutched his hands in hers, and a tremor ran through him to the contact. She looked up. A tear he could not rcBtraln rolled slowly down his woro white face! '"I'hillippe - husband - forgive!" He raised one trembling hand toward the figure of Christ on the w&ll. A shafi oí Uglrt froni the stained-glass window cast a silver radianee over the Savior's face. , 'Man forgives - ask him to pardon - your sin." Without the penitents were murmuring impatiently among themaelvee - hall an hour had elapsed Blnce the strange young woman had entered the confesslonal. The Jlarquise de Monceau, by reason oí her age and posltion in the. neighborhood, resolved to find out for herself. She puflhed open the door of the confesional ajid peered in. She saw Pere Severin, the missionBTy, the martyr, the vicar ol Chrlst, ith the etrange woman ia hia arms. He was soothing her grief, he was strotking her hair. And as the Marquise withdrew, her cheeks aflame with righteotia indignation, she heard him murmur softly: "Poor little Isabel- poor wounded little