The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1912-02-03


velvet carpet.
''You!" he said slowly-"you!"
While keeping up the outer sem
blance Of Catholicity, Judge Forsyth
had-like too many other successful
(?) Catholics-long since ceased the
actual practice of his religion, and the
sight of Father Lanning, whom he had
known since early boyhood. but whom
he had studiously avoided of late, was
at this psychological moment like the
proverbial last straw
There was no pretense of salutation,
each feeling instinctively that such
words were superfluous-that the stu
alton had gone beyond the common
place.
Goods ways are indeed inscrutable,"
the priest said, in a strangely. reverent
tone. II knew you were in need of
help, Tom, and came"
"You knew" the Judge gasped.
How did you know, Father? Oh,
see! Young Carbon" 90
Il have not seen young Carbon the
other interrupted quietly.
Then how"
"You may scott at the idea," Father
tanning said in the same reverent
tone, 'but while saying my Office some
thing seemed to urge me to come to
you. So urgent and insistent was the
conviction that you needed me that I
did not wait to finish, but came at
once. You are in trouble Tom. What
is it,"
81 have nothing to tell, Father" the
Judge began deliberately. But some
thing in the steady glance which held
his against his will, and which seemed
to be reading his very soul, caused
him to add rather hurriedly. THAT is,
nothing that you can help"
Are you sure?" the priest asked
quietly, letting his glance stray for an
instant in the direction of the secret
drawer wherein reposed the discarded
revolver. 81 think you are in need
Of just such help as can give" he
insisted gravely.
We are all, even the strongest of
us, but children of a larger growth"
and however self-reliant we may be,
there comes time when we stand face
to face with our own weaknesses, our
human limitations. and our hearts cry
out for the sheltering mother-arms.
Such moment had come to Judge
Forsyth.
While he hesitated, torn, between
conflicting emotions, the silence was
broken by loud, imperative peal of
the door bell.
"It Is too late!" he said heavily.
"The men have come and"
"It is never too late to do right"
the priest broke in quickly, an authori-
tative ring in his quiet voice, touching
the bell sharply as he spoke.
your master is engaged" he said
to the servant who appeared at the
door.
After some little delay the Judge
heard the outer door open, then shut
with a bang. He had sunk into a
chair, where he sat weak and inert.
"You have only added fuel to the
fire." he said in thick voice. 81 shall
have to see them sooner or later,
and"
81 do not know the nature of their
business with you," Father Lanning
interrupted, with gentle insistence,
"but do know that you are in grave
and immediate need of spiritual aid.
Tell me everything"
****
The resignation of Judge Forsyth as
president of the new corporation, to-
gether with his retirement from bust
ness, created a sensation in financial
circles, and caused a sort of panic
among those whom he had been closely
associated. After the first gasp of
amazement and incredulity heads be-
gan to wag, and ugly rumors were set
afloat
The way of the transgressor is hard
It is not possible, under any circum-
stances to do wrong without paying
for it in one way or another. There
were moments when the proud spirit
of Judge Forsyth writhed in an agony
of humiliation, and he was tempted
to throw his good resolutions to the
winds, for it is always easier to slip
back into the crooked ways than to
keep to the straight and narrow path.
But no man is ever tempted beyond
his strength. His daughter proved his
guardian angel" encouraging him in
the good work he had begun, and
standing Loyalty by his side. Gradu-
ally old friends, influential men, of
sterling qualities and unquestioned in
tegrity, began dropping in for a quiet
evening, and ere long the Judge found
himself surrounded by coterie whose
friendship was really worth having.
1.-THE joy of soul at peace with
itself is worth all the money that was
ever coined" he remarked one evening,
few year later, as he sat before the
glowing hearth in the pleasant library,
''trotting" his young grandson on his
knee. Philip, my boy" be continued
earnestly addressing the clear-eyed
young man who sat on the other side