Free electronic library

Well, it was in
those long nights; I got thinking about the books
and about what the students had said--and wondering--
whether they were right and--what--
Our Lord would have said about it all."
"Did you ask Him?" Montanelli's voice was
not quite steady.
"Often, Padre. Sometimes I have prayed to
Him to tell me what I must do, or to let me die
with mother. But I couldn't find any answer."
"And you never said a word to me. Arthur, I
hoped you could have trusted me."
"Padre, you know I trust you! But there are
some things you can't talk about to anyone. I--it
seemed to me that no one could help me--not
even you or mother; I must have my own answer
straight from God. You see, it is for all my life
and all my soul."
Montanelli turned away and stared into the
dusky gloom of the magnolia branches. The
twilight was so dim that his figure had a shadowy
look, like a dark ghost among the darker boughs.
"And then?" he asked slowly.
"And then--she died. You know, I had been
up the last three nights with her----"
He broke off and paused a moment, but Montanelli
did not move.


Pages:
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34