"Of course I know him. He is one of our best friends. But are you certain it is he she wishes to see?"
"I merely surmise, Mother. I will see her at once and ask her—the Sister told me to lose no time."
In the big surgical ward of the hospital, the bed surrounded by screens, Father O'Connor found a woman, her face of an ashen colour, and constantly contracted in pain. She lay very quietly and in silence save when a faint groan spoke of a spasm of agony. Her voice had sunk to a faint whisper, so that the priest was compelled to bend over and listen to that which she desired to say. But, in a low voice, and disjointed sentences, she confided her sins to Father O'Connor's ears, and was then received into the Catholic Church. Before the priest left her she asked:
"May I see Mr. Denis Quirk?"
"He shall be sent for at once," Father O'Connor answered. "Good-bye, and God bless you. You are happy now?"
"For the first time for many years. I only need Denis Quirk's forgiveness before I die. Promise me I shall not see Mr. Clarence again."
"I promise that," Father O'Connor answered, whispering to himself: "May the Lord have mercy on the poor man's soul, for he will need mercy."
In half an hour Denis Quirk was shown to the sick woman's bedside. It is not my purpose to say what passed between the dying wife and the husband whom she had so grievously wronged. Denis Quirk readily forgave her the evil she had done him, and with her he remained until she had passed the portal of death, holding his hand in hers. Then he rose from his knees and gazed into her face, and on it he saw a great joy and peace, that had not rested there for many years.