would not permit them to come out at an earlier hour; feeling thankful
to know that He, the wonderful and humble Jesus, would be there to
receive their homage, and dispense His blessings to their waiting
hearts. Her old feelings would have triumphed, had she attended the
earlier masses, when the artisan, the toil-worn, the laborer, with his
habiliments covered with the moil and toil of earth; the tattered poor,
who were ashamed to come out into the full light of day; the halt, the
cripple, and the blind, led by little ones; the widow and orphan, the
bereaved, who seek to hide their anguish from all eyes but His who can
heal it; the dark children of Ethiopia, the slave, the outcast, had
congregated there; all equal in HIS eyes, as they will be in the valley
of Jehosaphat when the judgment is, to receive the divine manna and the
vital heavenliness which His presence afforded; when, like pilgrims
refreshed by pure water in the desert, they went forth to encounter
again the heat, the simoon, the thirst and weariness of the way, but
with renewed courage.

"Shall we go in to see Father Fabian a moment?" said May, after mass.

"No, not now, May. I think, perhaps I shall go to confession soon; and
I do not wish to know him, or be known to him," she replied, shrinking
back.

"Let it be soon, very soon, dearest Helen!" said May, pressing her hand.

"Perhaps," she answered, vaguely.

"Now, dear Helen, can you find your way back? I have to go a little
way on business," said May, when they came within two squares of home.