“I scarcely know. But I want you to tell me. Ought we not always to think of others more than of ourselves?”
“So long as we take care not to put ourselves in too great danger. The soul should be brave, but not foolhardy.”
His voice had changed, had become stronger, even a little stern.
“There are risks that no good Christian ought to run: it is not cowardice, it is wisdom that avoids the Evil One. I have known people who seemed almost to think it was their mission to convert the fallen angels. They confused their powers with the powers that belong to God only.”
“Yes, but—it is so difficult to—if a human being were possessed by the devil, would not you try—would you not go near to that person?”
“If I had prayed, and been told that any power was given me to do what Christ did.”
“To cast out—yes, I know. But sometimes that power is given—even to women.”
“Perhaps especially to them. I think the devil has more fear of a good mother than of many saints.”
Domini realised almost with agony in that moment how her own soul had been stripped of a precious armour. A feeling of bitter helplessness took possession of her, and of contempt for what she now suddenly looked upon as foolish pride. The priest saw that his words had hurt her, yet he did not just then try to pour balm upon the wound.
“You came to me to-day as to a spiritual director, did you not?” he asked.