"It is all very petty, my child," said the padre. "Life is made up of
bigger things; the little ones should be ignored."
To which Nora replied: "To a woman, the little things are everything; they
are the daily routine, the expected, the necessary things. What you call
the big things in life are accidents. And, oh! I have pride." She folded
her arms across her heaving bosom; for the padre's directness this morning
had stirred her deeply.
"Wilfulness is called pride by some; and stubbornness. But you know, as
well as I do, that yours is resentment, anger, indignation. Yes, you have
pride, but it has not been brought into this affair. Pride is that within
which prevents us from doing mean or sordid acts; and you could not do one
or the other if you tried. The sentiment in you which should be
developed...."
"Is mercy?"
"No; justice, the patience to weigh the right or wrong of a thing."
"Padre, I have eyes, eyes; I saw."
He twirled the middle button of his cassock. "The eyes see and the ears
hear, but these are only witnesses, laying the matter before the court of
the last resort, which is the mind. It is there we sift the evidence."
"He had the insufferable insolence to order Herr Rosen to leave," going
around the barrier of his well-ordered logic.
"Ah! Now, how could he send away Herr Rosen if that gentleman had really
preferred to stay?"
Nora looked confused.
"Shall I tell you? I suspected; so I questioned him last night. Had I been
in his place, I should have chastised Herr Rosen instead of bidding him be
gone. It was he."
Nora, sat down.
"Positively. The men who guarded you were two actors from one of the
theaters. He did not come to Versailles because he was being watched. He
was found and sent home the night before your release."
"I am sorry. But it was so like him."
The padre spread his hands. "What a way women have of modifying either
good or bad impulses! It would have been fine of you to have stopped when
you said you were sorry."
"Padre, one would believe that you had taken up his defense!"
"If I had I should have to leave it after to-day. I return to Rome
to-morrow and shall not see you again before you go to America. I have
bidden good-by to all save you. My child, my last admonition is, be
patient; observe; guard against that impulse born in your blood to move
hastily, to form opinions without solid foundations. Be happy while you
are young, for old age is happy only in that reflected happiness of
recollection. Write to me, here. I return in November. Benedicite?"
smiling.
Nora bowed her head and he put a hand upon it.