“On the day following that of her confession they believed I was absent; but I was in my office, with the door sufficiently open to allow me to hear what was said. My wife and daughter had the following conversation:
“‘What makes you so thoughtful and sad, my dear Lucy, since you went to confession? It seems to me you should feel happier since you had the privilege of confessing your sins.’
“Lucy made no answer.
“After a silence of two or three minutes her mother said:
“‘Why do you weep, dear child? Are you ill?’
“Still no answer from the child.
“You may well suppose that I was all attention. I had my suspicions about the dreadful ordeal which had taken place. My heart throbbed with uneasiness and anger.
“After a short time my wife spoke to her child with sufficient firmness to force her to answer. In a trembling voice and half suppressed with sobs my dear little daughter answered:
“‘Ah! mamma, if you knew what the priest asked me, and what he said to me in the confessional, you would be as sad as I am.’
“‘But what did he say to you? He is a holy man. You surely did not understand him if you think he said anything to pain you.’