cottage and was somewhat taken aback when she entered.

There were hardly any books to be seen, but a crucifix hung on the
wall.

'Miss Radcliffe--an old and honoured name! What can be the object
of your visit?'

'Father, I am in distress. I want something which perhaps you can
give.'

'Ah, my child, I understand. You would like to confess, but you are
Protestant; I cannot absolve you. Return to the true fold and you
can be released.'

'O Father, I have committed no crime; I come to you because I doubt
and I MUST believe.'

The holy father was unused to such a penitent, and was perplexed and
agitated.

'Doubt, my child--yes, even the faithful are sometimes troubled with
doubt, a temptation from the Enemy of souls. Were you one of the
flock I could prescribe for you. But perhaps you mean doubt of the
heresies of your communion. In that case I can recommend a little
manual. Take it away with you, study it, and see me again.'

'Father,' said Kate, pointing to the crucifix, 'did He, the Son of
God, Son of the Virgin, really live on this earth? did He break His
heart for me? If He did, I am saved.'