"My blessed child!" he exclaimed, "what has made you think of such a
thing?"

"I know not, Father," replied Apolinaria, "but it seemed to have been
put into my mind by the saints in Heaven that that was what I should do;
and I believe that must be what I was destined for when I was found by
the dear sisters, forsaken and starving, and was taken to the asylum.
Did not they save my life that I might glorify God and the Blessed
Virgin the rest of my days?"

"Listen, Apolinaria," replied the Father solemnly. "I know well the
state of your mind concerning this question. I have no word of blame to
give you, and I am sure that the life you would pass in the convent
would be acceptable to God; one, indeed, of good work done for others,
in so far as your limited sphere of action would permit. But, my dear
child, consider carefully before you decide to take this step, whether
it may not be a step backward in your progress toward a heavenly home.
Here you are, a member of a leading family in Nueva California, in the
midst of duties which you can, and do, discharge faithfully, and which
would not be done so well by any one else, should you give them up.
Think of the help and comfort you are to Se–ora Carrillo, in her poor
health, with three children, who would be a sad burden to her without
you. Look at the place you fill in the household, where you are, in
truth, the housekeeper. Is not your life full of good work? What more
could you find in a convent? I know, my daughter, you wish for the life
of devotion to be found there, and that you look on it as a life of
rapture and uplifting. That is all very well for many poor women who
have no especial sphere of usefulness to fill in the world; but,
Apolinaria, I should deeply mourn the day that saw you become one of