'When you preached upon the sudden indisposition of our late
Superior.'

'I remember it: That is more than two years ago. And were you
present? I knew you not at that time, Rosario.'

' 'Tis true, Father; and would to God! I had expired, ere I
beheld that day! What sufferings, what sorrows should I have
escaped!'

'Sufferings at your age, Rosario?'

'Aye, Father; Sufferings, which if known to you, would equally
raise your anger and compassion! Sufferings, which form at once
the torment and pleasure of my existence! Yet in this retreat my
bosom would feel tranquil, were it not for the tortures of
apprehension. Oh God! Oh God! how cruel is a life of
fear!--Father! I have given up all; I have abandoned the world
and its delights for ever: Nothing now remains, Nothing now has
charms for me, but your friendship, but your affection. If I
lose that, Father! Oh! if I lose that, tremble at the effects of
my despair!'

'You apprehend the loss of my friendship? How has my conduct
justified this fear? Know me better, Rosario, and think me
worthy of your confidence. What are your sufferings? Reveal
them to me, and believe that if 'tis in my power to relieve them.
. . .'