While these events were the order of the day in Vermont, the proselytizers in York were not idle. Amanda now, since Paul had not only left the house, but even went away from the neighborhood, thought she, and her coadjutors the parsons, would have little difficulty in converting Bridget. But the latter now, besides having once a month an opportunity of hearing mass,--the new priest, Father Ugo, having made it a rule to visit the railroad laborers as often as he could, and being pretty well grounded in the catechism,--in addition to these very important aids to combat temptation, Bridget had also Murty O'Dwyer, who was hired in the house, to take up the cudgels for her against Amanda and Parson Gulmore. "Prepare, Bridget, to come with me this evening to Sabbath school," said the persevering Amanda. "I want to show them how well you can read, and also I want them to admire these nice flowers of your hat, and your pretty new dress, to see how smart you look." "Why, miss, if that be all you want, I can't go, for that would be a sin. Vanity, you know," said the little roguish girl, looking sarcastically at Amanda. "I am the best judge of that, missy," said the old maid. "Go on and prepare: you must come. You are getting very ugly since you got the habit of seeing that old priest of late." "I beg your pardon, miss. It is not for the priest's advice I refuse joining your worship, but because God forbids it and the church. Before the priest ever came here, I refused, during more than two years, to go to Protestant meetings or Sunday schools, which cost me many a tear and a scolding; and the priest's advice has not made me more determined than I was before never to put my foot inside your ugly meeting house or Sunday schools." "If I asked you to go to the priest to pay him a quarter to pardon your sins, you naughty Irish girl, you," said Amanda, in a passion, "how readily you would obey me, you naughty thing, you!" "You're welcome to your joke, miss," answered Bridget; "but if you are in earnest, I must say that it is not true that Father Ugo, or any other priest that ever lived, charged any money for hearing confession. Confession was ordained by Christ, our Lord; and those who do not go to confession cannot lead a pure life of virtue, nor preserve the love of God in their souls." "Indeed, miss!" said Amanda, with a sneer. "I see the priest has been giving you a lesson. As if none but Papists knew what purity or virtue was--the low set of Irish that they are!" "Our books of devotion say as much," said Bridget; "and it stands to reason, for if Catholics who frequent confession have enough to do to keep themselves undefiled, how much more difficult is it for those who do not confess at all? Besides, by confession restitution is enforced, and whatever your neighbor loses by fraud is restored."