The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1913-02-22
CHRIST OR DIANA

SS~AA~~OS3
Father Donovan, shaking his gray
head sadly. 81 cannot give you any
encouragement under these condi-
lions. l don't like to hurt you, my
child, 1 really don't. I will tell you
plainly, Annie, dispensation could
be procured without much trouble,
because you need help; you are an
orphan all alone in the world. But,
Annie, my child, l think l know you
well enough; you will be good girl,
and do what's right in this matter, I
am sure"
Annie Morton frowned and answer
ed impatiently: "But, Father, do be
reasonable. You know Howard Will
liams as well as l. You know his
record. You will certainly not deny
that he is a gentleman. Besides,
there is not the slightest danger to
my faith implied. He always told
me that he is glad that am so re-
ligious. You know, too, that there are
hopes for his conversion"
Father Donovan smiled sadly. tits
the old story, Annie, the old story. l
have heard it many and many time
these last thirty-five years. Mr.. Will
liams was here last week. He is all
you say of him, l don't deny it; but,
Annie, is there anything more essen
tial in home than unity? Without it
forces are split, and, at best, it is
but a shadow of that hallowed sanctu-
airy where we find all that is best
and loveliest in human life. Besides,
Annie, l have very poor hopes for
Towards conversion; he is playing
with divine grace. / have known him
for years, and know that he stands
entirely under the sway of his father.
His father is bigot, you must know
that, Annie, and as long as his for
tune is in jeopardy, Howard Williams
will not enter the Church. Now, do
you think that man who allows such
considerations to separate him from
God will respect the convictions of
his wife, if they should stand in the
way of his success?
Annie could not conceal her en-
barrassment. Father" she said, II
see you do not quite understand
Howard. 1 trust him implicitly and
have all reason to do so. You know,
Father, that I am all alone in the
world. If I refuse this offer, what is
left for me? Then, Father, I think
too much of him; a refusal is out of
the question"
"Annie, Annie, our faith is so pre-
cious, far, far too precious to risk, .
said the old priest.
81 am simply settled on this point
I am sorry it grieves you so, but !
am sure that some day you will think
otherwise"
Annie Morton had gone. Father
Donovan returned to his desk and
sighed. Poor girl, never thought
that she could become so blind" Annie
had been one of his devout Children
of Mary" Every month she had been
a regular communicate. She had been
interested in all good endeavours, but
now she seemed to have forgotten it
all. For the sake of this Williams
she was ready to endanger her faith.
Old Father Donovan shook his head;
it was one of those mysteries which
he could never solve.
The interview with Father Dono-
van had been extremely disappointing
to Annie Morton, and that night she
paced her little room till late hour
in deep thought The girl had always
been pious, and even now her faith
meant everything to her; she had
never even thought of placing this,
her dearest treasure, in danger. But
the earnest words of the priest had
made her waver. For the first time
in her life she stood on the threshold
of human happiness. Till now her
path of life had been rugged and
thorny. Poverty had always been her
portion. She had been forced out into
life at a very early age. The years
Of her youth had been spent between
the dark factory walls and this little
back room which she called her home.
But still there had been joy in her
life, a Joy so sweet and beautiful that
it cast a splendour about the dull
monotony of everyday drudgery and
had made her grinding life-work pleas
ant But that joy had been ruthlessly
snatched from her, when just one year
ago the mother whom she had loved
with every chord of her heart and to
whom she chung with every fibre of
her being, was taken from her. The
girl shuddered now as she looked
about the dark, cherries room, made
gloomier still by the absence of her
who had given it sunshine and light.
She thought of the lonely, sorrowful
days she had spent here since her
mothers death. Then a beautiful pic
ture unfolded itself to her enraptured
gaze of happy home where peace
would reign supreme, where every
comfort would be hers. Certainly she
had right to some of Iife's joys.
What was life to her, all alone, in the
world, and penniless? Father Dono-
van was simply unreasonable; he
didn't understand; how could he under
stand? The girl looked down at the
diamond that sparkled on her shapely
finger. It was her engagement ring,
the ring that was to seal their happi-
ness. Was that ring to become but a
sign of her disappointment, her