As they sat on either side of the table, Evelyn was attracted, and then absorbed, by the distinctive appearance of the priest. His mind was in his face. The long, high forehead, with black hair growing sparely upon it; the small, brilliant eyes, and the long, firm line of the jaw, now distinct, for the head was turned almost in profile. The face was a perfect symbol of the mind behind it; and the intimate concurrence of the appearance and the thought was the reason of its attractiveness. It was the beauty of unity; here was a man whose ideas are so deeply rooted that they express themselves in his flesh. In him there was nothing floating or undecided; and in the line of the thin, small mouth and the square nostrils, Evelyn divined a perfect certainty on all points. In this way she was attracted to his spiritual guidance, and desired the support of his knowledge, as she had desired Ulick's knowledge when she was studying Isolde. Ulick's technical knowledge had been useful to her; upon it she had raised herself, through it she had attained her idea. And in the same way Monsignor's knowledge on all points of doctrine would free her from doubt. Then she would be able to rise above the degradation of earthly passion to that purer and higher passion, the love of God. Doctrine she did not love for its own sake as Monsignor loved it. She regarded it as the musician regards crotchets and quavers, as a means of expression; and she now felt that without doctrine she could not acquire the love which she desired; without doctrine she could not free herself from the bondage of the flesh, and every moment the temptation to give her soul into his keeping grew more irresistible. Rising from her chair, she said-- "Will you hear my confession now, Monsignor?" "The priest looked at her, his narrow, hard face concentrated in an ardent scrutiny. "Certainly, my child, if you think you are sufficiently prepared." "I must confess now; I could not put it off again;" and glancing round the room, she slipped suddenly upon her knees. The priest put on his stole and murmured a Latin prayer, making the sign of the Cross over the head of his penitent. "I fear I shall never remember all my sins. I have been living in mortal sin so many years." "I remember that you spoke to me of intellectual difficulties--concerning faith. You see now, my dear child, that you were deceiving yourself. Your real difficulties were quite different." "I think that my doubts were sincere," Evelyn replied tremblingly, for she felt that Monsignor expected her to agree with him. "If your doubts were sincere, what has removed them? What has convinced you of the existence of a future life? That, I believe, was one of your chief difficulties. Have you examined the evidence?" Evelyn murmured that that sense of right and wrong which she had never been able to drive out of her heart implied the existence of God.