“But we believe the Bible to be a sufficient guide to all our darkness and doubts.” “Morally I know it is, madam. And I do not say that its precepts will not reach every variety of intellectual difficulty. But I have found that conference with a superior mind is a great relief and pleasure, as well as guide, in understanding the doubts that often weigh on the mind.” “Unquestionably it is so, Claire; but we find those superior minds in the circle of our acquaintances, in our husbands, brothers, and the friends to whom we attach ourselves. We have not the need of confession that you feel, isolated as you are from any guiding mind.” “Yes, madam, that is true. I can see that in such a case confession would not be so necessary; but with us it is a great need.” She drew the curtains as she spoke, and sat silently at her netting. I lay revolving in my mind for a long time the conversation I had been holding with this strange girl. There was something in the maturity of her mind and the dignity of her manner, that contrasted greatly with the extreme youthfulness of her figure and face. Her eyes had a quiet serenity that seemed the result of having attained, at a bound, the goal to which humanity generally reaches after long and painful experiences and mental vicissitudes that leave their unmistakable marks on the face. But in Claire’s face, seen by the pale light of the room, was an angelic wisdom, pure and high. Yet she did not look satisfied; or rather, she was satisfied only in the thought of a future different from the calm present. I asked myself how would this sweet flower bear transplanting? She had no ties but those of gratitude to the place she was in, and as a sphere of usefulness, some one more strong and hardy could fill it better than she did. She evidently looked and longed for the arrival of her father, more from “the necessity of loving” than from a filial feeling. I did not myself believe that he was in existence, or that if he were, he was worthy of her affection, or he would long ere this have sought her out. Thoughts like these kept me wakeful, and when I undrew the curtain again to speak to Claire, I found she had gone softly out, and her place was supplied by a stout “Sister,” to whom I had no inclination to speak. She told me, in answer to my query, that day was nearly breaking, and I sunk to sleep in the hearing of the distant music of the morning-hymn. The sun was already high in the heavens when I awoke. Claire was sitting by the side of my bed, and at my first motion, spoke to me with a cheerful smile that well corresponded with the serene brightness of the day. “Father Angelo has been here for some time, madam; I have been telling him about you, for truly, madam, I feel as if I had known you a long time, instead of only one night. He will be glad to see you.” “And I shall like to see him, Claire. But as I feel myself, thanks to your kindness, quite recovered, I will not receive him so entirely in dishabille.”