"Nor do I ever expect to arrive at perfection. Oh, no! I am too imperfect; too full of infirmities and faults!" said May, earnestly. "But shall I read the night prayers, or do you prefer reading them alone?"
"Oh, read them by all means; but don't begin until I get on my cloak—it is freezing cold here," said Helen, shivering.
May read the beautiful prayers and litany of our Blessed Lady with such fervor and piety that Helen was touched in spite of herself, and responded with heartfelt earnestness; and at the De Profundis, she thought of her dead father, and wept bitterly.
"I am very, very sad, May," said Helen, when May kissed her good-night.
"To-morrow, dear Helen, we will seek a heavenly physician; He who comes to the lowly and repentant, and dispenses healing and divine gifts from his throne—the altar!" whispered May.
Helen sighed deeply, but made no reply.
CHAPTER VI.
HELEN.
The great bell of the cathedral was just tolling the Angelus, when
May, laying her hand softly on Helen, awoke her.
"Rise, dear Helen; it is six o'clock."