But he was well aware, that however Acme might have sympathised with George, her earlier religious impressions would now in all probability be revived.
A Catholic priest was sent for, and arrived quickly. He was habited in the brown garb of his order, his waist girt with a knotted cord. He bore in his hand the sainted pyx, and commenced to shrive the dying girl.
It was the soft hour of sunset, and the prospect in rear of the mansion, presented a wide sea of rich coloured splendour.
Over the window, had been placed a sheet, in order to exclude the light from the invalid's chamber. The priest knelt by her bedside; and folding his hands together, began to pray.
The rays of the setting sun, fitfully flickered on the sheet, over whose surface, light shadows swiftly played, ever and anon glancing on the shorn head of the kneeling friar.
His intelligent face was expressive of firm belief.
His eye turned reverentially to heaven, as in deep and sonorous accents, he implored forgiveness for the sufferer, for the sins committed during her mortal coil.
Acmé sat up in her bed. On her countenance, calm devotion seemed to usurp the place of earthly affections, and earthly passions.
The soul was preparing for its upward flight. Delmé led away the sorrowing husband, and the minister of Christ was left alone, to hear the contrite outpourings of a weak departing sinner.
The priest left the chamber, but spoke not, either to the physician, or the expecting brothers. His impassioned glance belonged to another and a higher world.