The things we do!

She came forward quickly and with evident eagerness.
"I came to confession," she said, breathing hurriedly, the excitement in
her eyes shining through her veil, "but I find I am too late."
"There is no too late or too early for that; I am always ready," said
the priest. "But how is your mother?"
"Ah!"--
Her voice failed.
"More trouble?"
"Ah, sir, I have made trouble. Oh, Pere Jerome, I am bringing so much
trouble upon my poor mother!"
Pere Jerome moved slowly toward the house, with his eyes cast down, the
veiled girl at his side.
"It is not your fault," he presently said. And after another pause: "I
thought it was all arranged."
He looked up and could see, even through the veil, her crimson blush.
"Oh, no," she replied, in a low, despairing voice, dropping her face.
"What is the difficulty?" asked the priest, stopping in the angle of the
path, where it turned toward the front of the house.
She averted her face, and began picking the thin scales of bark from a
crape-myrtle.


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