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"No, no, mother, no!" cried Lucy. "Do not wish harm to him! do

not wish it to any one! If you knew what it is to suffer! if you

had experienced it! No, no! rather let us pray to God and the

Virgin for him, that God would touch his heart as he has done

that of the other lord, who was worse than he, and who is now a

saint."

The horror that Lucy felt in retracing events so painful and

recent made her hesitate more than once. More than once she said

she had not the heart to proceed, and, choked by her tears, she

with difficulty went on with her narrative. But she was

embarrassed by a different sentiment at a certain point of her

recital, at the moment when she was about to speak of her vow.

She feared her mother would accuse her of imprudence and

precipitation; she feared that she would, as she had done in the

affair of the marriage, bring forward her broad rules of

conscience, and make them prevail; she feared that the poor woman

would tell it to some one in confidence, if it were only to gain

light and advice, and thus render it public. These reflections

made Lucy experience insupportable shame, and an inexplicable

repugnance to speak on the subject.