"The dear God would rather I would drown myself," she said; "it would at least be"-- she hesitated for a word, as if at a loss in her English--"at least be cleaner." She had no sooner finished that speech than the scorn died out of her face: "Ah, no," she cried repentant; "the men and women who are driven to seek such redress--I--I truly pity them--but for me--it would not be any use even if it were right.

O'Shea says it would be no use, and he knows.

I don't think I would do it if I could; but I could not if I would." "Surely he is dead," pleaded Caius.

"How can you live if you do not believe that ?" She came a little nearer to him, making the explanation with child-like earnestness: "You see, I have talked to God and to the holy Mother about this.

I know they have heard my prayers and seen my tears, and will do what is good for me.