Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 8, no. 45, July, 1861 | Page 2

and
she folded her in her arms and kissed her forehead with a warmth that
had in it the semblance of maternity.
"Grandmamma has given me a day to spend with you, dear mother,"
said Agnes.
"Welcome, dear little child!" said Mother Theresa. "Your spiritual
home always stands open to you."
"I have something to speak to you of in particular, my mother," said

Agnes, blushing deeply.
"Indeed!" said the Mother Theresa, a slight movement of curiosity
arising in her mind as she signed to the two nuns to leave the
apartment.
"My mother," said Agnes, "yesterday evening, as grandmamma and I
were sitting at the gate, selling oranges, a young cavalier came up and
bought oranges of me, and he kissed my forehead and asked me to pray
for him, and gave me this ring for the shrine of Saint Agnes."
"Kissed your forehead!" said Jocunda, "here's a pretty go! it isn't like
you, Agnes, to let him."
"He did it before I knew," said Agnes. "Grandmamma reproved him,
and then he seemed to repent, and gave this ring for the shrine of Saint
Agnes."
"And a pretty one it is, too," said Jocunda. "We haven't a prettier in all
our treasury. Not even the great emerald the Queen gave is better in its
way than this."
"And he asked you to pray for him?" said Mother Theresa.
"Yes, mother dear; he looked right into my eyes and made me look into
his, and made me promise;--and I knew that holy virgins never refused
their prayers to any one that asked, and so I followed their example."
"I'll warrant me he was only mocking at you for a poor little fool," said
Jocunda; "the gallants of our day don't believe much in prayers."
"Perhaps so, Jocunda," said Agnes, gravely; "but if that be the case, he
needs prayers all the more."
"Yes," said Mother Theresa. "Remember the story of the blessed Saint
Dorothea,--how a wicked young nobleman mocked at her, when she
was going to execution, and said, 'Dorothea, Dorothea, I will believe,
when you shall send me down some of the fruits and flowers of
Paradise'; and she, full of faith, said, 'To-day I will send them'; and,
wonderful to tell, that very day, at evening, an angel came to the young
man with a basket of citrons and roses, and said, 'Dorothea sends thee
these, wherefore believe.' See what grace a pure maiden can bring to a
thoughtless young man,--for this young man was converted and became
a champion of the faith."
"That was in the old times," said Jocunda, skeptically. "I don't believe
setting the lamb to pray for the wolf will do much in our day. Prithee,
child, what manner of man was this gallant?"

"He was beautiful as an angel," said Agnes, "only it was not a good
beauty. He looked proud and sad, both,--like one who is not at ease in
his heart. Indeed, I feel very sorry for him; his eyes made a kind of
trouble in my mind, that reminds me to pray for him often."
"And I will join my prayers to yours, dear daughter," said the Mother
Theresa; "I long to have you with us, that we may pray together every
day;--say, do you think your grandmamma will spare you to us wholly
before long?"
"Grandmamma will not hear of it yet," said Agnes; "and she loves me
so, it would break her heart, if I should leave her, and she could not be
happy here;--but, mother, you have told me we could carry an altar
always in our hearts, and adore in secret. When it is God's will I should
come to you, He will incline her heart."
"Between you and me, little one," said Jocunda, "I think there will soon
be a third person who will have something to say in the case."
"Whom do you mean?" said Agnes.
"A husband," said Jocunda; "I suppose your grandmother has one
picked out for you. You are neither humpbacked nor cross-eyed, that
you shouldn't have one as well as other girls."
"I don't want one, Jocunda; and I have promised to Saint Agnes to
come here, if she will only get grandmother to consent."
"Bless you, my daughter!" said Mother Theresa; "only persevere and
the way will be opened."
"Well, well," said Jocunda, "we'll see. Come, little one, if you wouldn't
have your flowers wilt, we must go back and look after them."
Reverently kissing the hand of the Abbess, Agnes withdrew with her
old friend, and crossed again to the garden to attend to her flowers.
"Well now, childie," said Jocunda, "you can sit here and weave your
garlands, while I go and look after the conserves of raisins and citrons
that Sister Cattarina is making. She is stupid at