"If we find none here on earth, there is always One above us, my child," the sister answered, softly. "We must turn to Him for comfort in our sorrow. Nobody else can help us, believe me, dear."
"Who are you?"
"I am Sister Angela; a Sister of Mercy, you know."
"Mercy?" The girl's voice rang out in a bitter cry. "There is no mercy, none, for such as I. Oh, sister—sister, tell me what to do. I am a lost wretch, lost forever. Not in the sense that you think," she added, swiftly, noticing the expression which dawned upon the calm face of the sister. "I have done no intentional wrong, committed no crime; but I have married a good man, and have brought ruin upon his whole life. Listen to my story. It is brief. I married him, and then afterward, when it was too late, I learned that a dreadful fate is in store for me; that I am by inheritance—a dark inheritance, indeed—tainted with leprosy."
"My child!"
The sister's voice trembled perceptibly.
"Surely you do not realize what you are saying!"
"It is true—all true," Beatrix went on swiftly. "I heard the truth, the awful truth, under such circumstances that I can not doubt it. And all the surroundings of my daily life prove that my only relative knew all the time the evil that threatened me, but for some reason—perhaps through mistaken kindness, he failed to let me know the worst. Sister, I am accursed!"
Sister Angela shook her head slowly.