"Very kind."
"I should like to see him. I don't suppose that I intend going to confession, but I want to talk with such a man. Has he had much to do with making you what you are?"
"He has given me good advice, and I have tried to follow it, if that is what you mean."
Lady Sackvil looked at Mary fixedly for some time.
"I made up my mind, a short time ago," she said, "that the thing most likely to convince me of the direct influence of God would be to see a Christian whose character would bear scrutiny under the severest test. I have seen such a Christian in you. Most women would have spurned me away in disdain; you have treated me like a sister. I thank you for it, and I should like to believe what you believe."
Mary smiled at the reasoning, but thanked God for the conclusion. "You would find Padre Giulio very sympathizing," she said; "I think it would soothe you to see him. Shall I send for him to come here?"
"On no account. I will go to him if you will come with me. Do come with me; I will bless you all my life," she added pleadingly.
"Of course I will go, but not to-day. If you were to take cold now, it might be the death of you. To-morrow morning we will go to St. Mark's, and I will send him word, that we may be sure of finding him at home."
Lady Sackvil looked disappointed. "I would rather go to-day. I want to have it over."
"There's no occasion to wish to have it over," said Mary soothingly. "An experienced confessor is too well used to dealing with mental suffering to wonder at it, no matter in what shape it comes."