Will you permit my arranging them in your chamber ?' 'Your attentions charm me, my Son.' While Rosario dispersed the contents of his Basket in small Vases placed for that purpose in various parts of the room, the Abbot thus continued the conversation.
'I saw you not in the Church this evening, Rosario.' 'Yet I was present, Father.

I am too grateful for your protection to lose an opportunity of witnessing your Triumph.' 'Alas! Rosario, I have but little cause to triumph: The Saint spoke by my mouth; To him belongs all the merit.

It seems then you were contented with my discourse ?' 'Contented, say you?
Oh! you surpassed yourself! Never did I hear such eloquence ...

save once!' Here the Novice heaved an involuntary sigh.
'When was that once ?' demanded the Abbot.
'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.