I do not
forbid you to practise the holy work of intercession for his soul, but
it must be on these conditions.
"My father," said Agnes, "you may rely on my obedience"; and, kneeling,
she kissed his hand.
He drew it suddenly away, with a gesture of pain and displeasure.
"Pardon a sinful child this liberty," said Agnes.
"You know not what you do," said the father, hastily. "Go, my
daughter,--go, at once; I will confer with you some other time"; and
hastily raising his hand in an attitude of benediction, he turned and
went into the confessional.
"Wretch! hypocrite! whited sepulchre!" he said to himself,--"to warn
this innocent child against a sin that is all the while burning in my
own bosom! Yes, I do love her,--I do! I, that warn her against earthly
love, I would plunge into hell itself to win hers! And yet, when I know
that the care of her soul is only a temptation and a snare to me, I
cannot, will not give her up! No, I cannot!--no, I will not! Why should
I _not_ love her? Is she not pure as Mary herself? Ah, blessed is he
whom such a woman leads! And I--I--have condemned myself to the society
of swinish, ignorant, stupid monks,--I must know no such divine souls,
no such sweet communion! Help me, blessed Mary!--help a miserable
sinner!"
Agnes left the confessional perplexed and sorrowful.
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