The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-09-05

ton? Could that church be true
which could not say whether or not
| its doctrines were true?
Uncontrolled, the girl rose at last
to CO. AS she passed out there en-
tered woman clothed in mourning,
and Helen experienced vague attrac-
ton as she noticed the sweetness and
refinement of that woman's face.
When she reached home servant in
formed her that her mother wished
to speak to her at once, and it was
with a qualm of misgiving that Helen
went to the pleasant sitting-room,
where the mother was waiting. Mrs.
Leigh, Helen's mother, was sweet
and charming person. Usually she
did not take the trouble to do unpleas-
ant things, but when she went into
such an affair as this before her she
did it as unpleasantly as possible.
Helen" she began, even before the
girl was seated, and with a note of
sharp irritation in her voice, "Mr.
Moreland was here this morning. He
had heard rumors about you to the
effect that you were on the point of
| joining the Romanists. / had hoped
that you would have seen your mis-.
take before he had heard anything"
at was to him l brought my first
DOUBTS Helen returned, gravely. He
told me l could believe what l pleased
that my ideas were very high
church. He suggested that l keep
them somewhat in the background, as
the present bishop did not favor
them"
Her mother made gesture of i'm
patience. For mercy's sake, Helen"
she said, give up this nonsense.
Don't stand in your own light. You
are twenty-five years of age, and elig
ible men are not too plentiful in
Brighton. You and Charles Moreland
are simply made for each other"
Helen flushed with annoyance. 81
do not think So" she returned, quietly.
Indeed, by that advice of his he
showed me beyond doubt that we could
never be anything to each other"
Mrs. Leigh's knitting needle clicked
ominously Our social prestige will
be ruined if you keep on" she an
nounced, ENORMOUSLY. "How you can
consider joining those Romanists is
beyond my comprehension. People
like that Jack Redmond will be your
regular associates, suppose"
Jack Redmond?" Helen repeated,
vaguely aware that some time she
had heard the name.
Eyes, you know he died recently, -
Mrs. Leigh explained. "He was abso-
lutely worthless during life, but he re.
ceived the last Sacramento, so they
claim that he went to heaven. This
is all that Greed, of which you are
so enamored, requires of it's members
not good life, but just death that
the Church has blessed, ~ gxen what
is called their Easter y *
Helen was silent. A qS ssind had
touched the beautiful bio ssSfn Of her
faith. But it may be" she said at
last, hopefully, that this was an ex
ceptional case. Surely all Catholics
are not like him."
Mrs. Leigh put down her work with
a sigh. ooh, told Mr.. Moreland how
it would be- she said YEARLY. There
is no reasoning with you. I might
just as well talk to a stone WALL
Helen's lips quivered. IA stone
walI'-while her heart was aching liz
loneliness and desolation; while she
longed inexpressibly to accede to her
mothers demands. She felt her will
wavering, faltering; and realizing
that she was on the point of yielding
she rose and left the room, stumbling
a little, for her eyes were blind with
tears.
The next day was Sunday. At the
Church of the Holy Angels, during the
morning service, Helen had listened
dutifully to a scholarly Grafton by the
Rev. Charles Moreland. But now it
was afternoon, and clearly and sweet
ly the bell of st. Mary's called to her.
She had never attended a Catholic
service, and it occurred to her that
it might be we'll to do so before TAX
ing any decisive step, for possibly it
would cure her of "Romanism." The
service had already begun when she
arrived, so she slipped into one of
the back pews. Her heart misgave
her as she viewed the congregation.
Indeed there were few present whom
she could consider of her own class,
and she now asked herself sternly,
could she make herself one with
these people? Their God was her
God, too"
Prayers which she did not know or
understand were being recited. The
priest was too far away for her to
hear what he was saying, and she was
only little impressed by the many
fervent voices about her, responding
to the prayers of Our Lady's Rosary
She felt strangely alone in the midst
of these worshippers, who neither
knew nor loved her. The hot after.
noon sunshine blazed dazzlingly
through the unstained windows, draw,
ing her attention to the rude architec.
ture of st. Mary's-the wooden beams
the unfrescoed walls, the unattractive
prints depicting the Way of the Cross
All, why was she torturing herself
like this? The church of the Holy
Angels, after all, was the best for her
she recalled how different everything
had been there that morning-the soft
carpeted aisles, the subdued light, the
trained ushers, the charmingly correct