"And the voice said, 'If thou wouldst have the life of the Duchess prolonged, it shall be granted; but it is not expedient for thee'--'_thee_,' mind--not her! When he heard this, he was penetrated by a most tender love of God, and burst into tears. Then he asked God to do as He pleased with the lives of his wife and his children and himself. He gave up--I suppose he gave up--praying for her. She became much worse and died, leaving him a widower at the age of thirty-six. Afterwards--please don't interrupt!--in the space of three years, he disposed somehow of all his eight children--some of them I reckoned must be quite babies--took the vows, became a Jesuit, and went to Rome. Do you approve of all that?" Helbeck reddened. "It was a time of hard fighting for the Church," he said gravely, after a pause, "and the Jesuits were the advance guard. In such days a man may be called by God to special acts and special sacrifices." "So you do approve? Papa was a member of an Ethical Society at Cambridge. They used sometimes to discuss special things--whether they were right or wrong. I wonder what they would have said to St. Francis Borgia?" Helbeck smiled. "Mercifully, darling, the ideals of the Catholic Church do not depend upon the votes of Ethical Societies!" He turned his handsome head towards her. His tone was perfectly gentle, but behind it she perceived the breathing of a contempt before which she first recoiled--then sprang in revolt. "As for me," she said, panting a little, "when I finished the Life this morning in your room, I felt like Ivan in Browning's poem--do you recollect?--about the mother who threw her children one by one to the wolves, to save her wretched self? I would like to have dropped the axe on St. Francis Borgia's neck--just one--little--clean cut!--while he was saying his prayers, and enjoying his burning love, and all the rest of it!" Helbeck was silent, nor could she see his face, which was again turned from her towards the river. The eager feverish voice went on: "Do you know that's the kind of thing you read always--always--day after day? And it's just the same now! That girl of twenty-three, Augustina was talking of, who is going into a convent, and her mother only died last year, and there are six younger brothers and sisters, and her father says it will break his heart--_she_ must have been reading about St. Francis Borgia. Perhaps she felt 'burning love' and had 'floods of tears.' But Ivan with his axe--that's the person I'd bring in, if I could!" Still not a word from the man beside her. She hesitated a moment--felt a sob of excitement in her throat--bent forward and touched his shoulder. "Suppose--suppose I were to be ill--dying--and the voice came, 'Let her go! She is in your way; it would be better for you she should die'--would you just let go?--see me drop, drop, drop, through all eternity, to make your soul safe?"