The Superior hastened to assure her that he had no intention of questioning her, but she would not listen to him. She was started, and a wind-mill under full sail would have been more easily arrested than her torrent of words, of which probably not one was true, for she contradicted herself perpetually throughout her incoherent discourse, yet withal there was something sincere, something touching even in this love between mother and child. They had always been together. He had been taught at home by masters, and she wished now to separate from him only because of his intelligence and his eyes that saw things that were not intended for his vision.
“The best thing to do, it seems to me,” said the priest, gravely, “would be to live such a life that you need fear neither the scrutiny of your child nor of any one else.”
“That was my wish, sir,” she answered. “As Jack grew older, I wished to make his home all that which it ought to be. Besides, before long, my position will be assured. For some time I have been thinking of marrying, but to do this it was necessary to send my boy away for a time that he might obtain the education worthy of the name he ought to bear. I thought that nowhere could he do as well as here, but at one blow you repulse him and discourage his mother’s good resolutions.”
Here the Superior arrested her with an exclamation of astonishment. He hesitated a moment; then looking her straight in her eyes, said,—
“So be it, madame. I yield to your wishes. Little Jack pleases me very much; I consent to receive him among our pupils.”
“My dear sir!”
“But on two conditions.”
“I am ready to accept all.”
“The first is, that until the day that your position is assured, the child shall spend his vacations under this roof, and shall not return to yours.”
“But he will die, my poor Jack, if he does not see his mother!”