The voice faltered; the whole body quivered.
"Well, my child?"
"Oh, mother, he told me I was not his wife; that I was a Catholic, but that he was a Protestant; that a Catholic priest had married us in Ireland without question or inquiry. That was not a valid marriage by English law."
"Shame on the English law! But what do we know of the law at the foot of the Cross? Well?"
"He left me. Mother, I flung God's good gift away. I tried to drown myself, and my little child with me; but they prevented me. I was placed in an asylum for the insane, and my baby—my Paul—was given into the care of a woman with whom I had lodged. Have I not sinned deeply?"
"Your sins are great, my daughter, but your sufferings have also been great. What happened then?"
"I escaped from the asylum and returned for my child. It was gone. The woman had removed to some other part of London, none knew where, and my Paul, my darling, was lost to me forever. My mother, it was then that I sinned deepest of all."
Her head was bowed to her trembling knees, and her voice was all but suspended in an agony of shame.
"Mother, I flung away God's better gift than life! Oh, how shall I tell you? Your foot trembles, reverend mother. You are a holy woman, and know nothing of the world's temptations."
"Hush, my daughter; I am as great a sinner as yourself."