"Why, of course not; I never thought of such a thing," said my mother, in that sweet voice of hers that reached one's soul. "We must make this an example, a warning for our girls. I will see to that, never fear. I am just as anxious about it as you are. She will live alone with her child. I did not care to crush her under the weight of a public anathema, nor would I be so inexorable as to condemn her to mendicity or debauch, that is all. I said to my poor Gabrielle, who is so ungovernable to-night," she added, smiling, "that I would take her work myself if I found nobody to obey me; but that is not exactly what I meant. What I meant was this: I will go to her myself; I will go every day. I will assume, or rather encroach upon your rights. I will exhort, I will preach to her; I will make her see that she is among sisters whom her conduct has grieved, but among sisters, nevertheless." She said all this with kindness, simplicity, and firmness. The priest lifted his broad-brimmed hat from his head. "I uncover my white hair before you, Madame," said he, in a loud voice, "and I pray God to bless the task that you have undertaken for his sake. My children, Marion will come back and work among you when she has made atonement for her fault. Until then I leave her entirely in your mistress's hands. If she does not lead her back to the path of virtue, we priests will have to give it up. Our Latin will not help us out of it." This very mild pleasantry excited much admiration, as everything did that fell from those venerable lips. For my part I was delighted, having a confused impression that we had gained a great victory; and I ran off to bed after having kissed my mother with unusual tenderness. [Illustration] THE MULE AND THE OX. From the Spanish of BENITO PÉREZ GALDÓS. I. The poor little one had ceased to moan; she turned her head slightly and stared with wide eyes at those who stood around her bed; her breath came fainter, fainter, until it stopped altogether. She was dead. The guardian angel uttered a deep sigh, unfolded his wings, and flew away. The poor mother could not believe in the reality of so much sorrow; still Celinina's exquisite face was growing diaphanous and yellow, like wax; her limbs were cold; and her body finally became rigid and hard like that of a doll. Then the mother was led away from the alcove, while the father, the nearest relatives, two or three friends, and the servants performed the last duties toward the dead child.