[_A choir is heard_.]

They are singing: _Praise ye the Lord_.

[_She folds her hands_.]

Yes! yes! If my mother had died, I should never have recovered from it,
for--[_Glances toward Heaven_.] But Thou art kind, Thou art merciful! I
would that I believed with the Catholics, so that I might offer Thee
something! I would empty the whole of my little box of savings and buy
Thee a beautiful gilded heart, and twine it with roses. Our pastor says
that sacrifices mean nothing to Thee, because everything is Thine, and
one should not offer Thee something Thou already hast. And yet
everything in the house belongs to my father too; and still he likes it
when I buy a piece of cloth with his money and embroider it and put it
on his plate for his birthday. Yes, and he honors me by wearing it only
on great holidays, at Christmas or Whitsuntide. Once I saw a little mite
of a Catholic girl carrying some cherries up to the altar. They were the
first the child had had that year, and I could see how she longed to eat
them. Still she resisted the innocent desire, and, in order to put an
end to the temptation, hurriedly threw them down. The priest, who was
just about to pick up the chalice, looked on with a scowl, and the child
hastened timidly away. But the Mary above the altar smiled gently, as if
she would have liked to step out of her frame and overtake the child and
kiss her.--I did it for her! Here comes Leonard. Oh, dear!



SCENE IV