"It is the Lord Himself who says them, Anne," replied Jack. "He tells us so in His Word, that very word which supported Agnes Harland when she was despitefully used for reading and believing it. Anne, I am putting my life in your hands by telling you these things; but I cannot see you suffering as you are without trying to help you. Oh, sister, only read for yourself—only hear—" In his eagerness, he had thrown himself on his knees at his sister's side and seized her hand. Anne pushed him away. "How dare you speak so to me?" she said angrily. "Is it not enough then that you should destroy yourself without trying to destroy me?" "It is because I would save you that I speak. Only look for yourself. Anne, I tell you, as sure as you are alive, there is no other way of salvation but through faith in Christ. If your merits were as great as those of St. Peter himself, they could avail nothing so far as that is concerned. Our Lord has Himself paid all the price of our redemption, and we have but to accept it as a free gift at His hands. Oh, sister, the way is so easy!" "Easy! Yes, the way to hell is always easy," said Anne, with bitterness. "It is the other way that is hard. How dare you come bringing your heresies into this room where our mother died? How dare you speak them to me who am the promised bride of Christ? How dare you tell me that all my prayers and penances are worth nothing in God's sight, after all these years that I have striven to earn His favor and love?" Jack was silent for a moment, startled by Anne's burst of passion so unlike her usual self-restraint. Then he said gently, "His favor and love are yours already, Anne, if you will but take them. They are a free gift. The gift of God is eternal life through His dear Son." "Oh, it is too hard—too hard," cried Anne, bursting into a fresh passion of tears. "I have heard all these things before. They rang in my ears for weeks and months after Agnes was taken from me; and now, just as they had ceased to haunt me day and night, you awaken the memory of them again. I will go far away. I will to the nunnery again—to the strictest order that I can find, and there in the darkest cell I will—" Anne's words were choked by her sobs. Jack, much distressed, would have taken her hand to soothe her, but she repulsed him violently, and then as if her strength were exhausted by the effort, she fell back fainting in her chair. At that moment, Sister Barbara opened the inner door which communicated with her room. "Hush, dear lad," said she, gently and quietly. "Help me to lay your sister on the bed, and then leave her to me. She will be better presently, poor thing." "I fear I have been to blame," said Jack, as he lifted Anne in his arms and felt shocked to discover how emaciated she was. "I have distressed when I meant to help her." "I know, I know," whispered the good nun. "Say no more, but go and pray for her and all of us. I will bring her to herself, and she will be better."