66 CHAPTER XV. Ah! torture not the fluttering heart "I CAN wait no longer," said Geraldine on the following morning, as a light double rap was heard at the hall door; "I begin to feel either a presentiment or nervous apprehension of being altogether detained; and if my future sisters arrive not by their own appointment, I shall linger here no more." As the footsteps approached, her heart beat, and a sickening dread overcame her, as she turned expecting to see her father; but the visitor was Mr. Everard. His step, so unlike his usual rapid tread, that she had mistaken it for that of General Carrington,bespoke the dejection of his heart. He took Geraldine's offered hand, and continued to hold it, as he sat beside her in silence: at length releasing it with a slight movement of irritation, he said, "I have lived too long." "Ah no!" cried Geraldine, moved by the affliction of this old and faithful friend; and she hastened to console him for her loss, by a picture of the happiness she would enjoy, and by the promise to nurse him on his dying bed, should life and health be granted her; but Mr. Everard not only grieved for her loss, but was vexed that she could not remain a quiet rational Catholic, enjoying the many blessings God had given her, and dispensing good to all around her, as the widow of him whose noble name she bore; and the more he spoke, the more irritated he became, so that at length telling her he had no patience with her folly, and that his heart was breaking, he sank into silence, which Geraldine knew not how to break. She continued therefore to sit by this attached and beloved old friend, in silence like his own. He had not changed, but they could no longer sympathize, for she had been led by the grace of God beyond his spiritual experience, and he looked on her as on a dreamer. Still he sighed, for her dreams, he admitted, gave her a joy which he fain would have shared. Geraldine also pondered, and she also sighed, but her sigh was not for herself, and to the sigh succeeded a bright and grateful smile as she looked up to her future home. The presence of Mr. Everard reminded her of those who had been deputed by God to aid her in her path towards Him, without any consciousness, on their part, that they were to work only for a limited time. Her uncles had each in her childhood assisted her religious attainment. The Warden by theological instructions, the humble vicar by the living sermons of his example. Her first governess had, with the Warden, impressed her with a deep sense of the respect due to the visible Church; her last governess, with her uncle Edmund, of the life hidden with Christ in God. When she began to feel that each principle might assist instead of opposing the other, and to perceive that they were parts taken from a whole, Mr. Everard assisted her to enter the Catholic Church, and she was then given, and she truly believed by the same guiding hand, to Sir Eustace De Grey. Geraldine in this retrospect acknowledged that she was not, at the time of her conversion, sufficiently matured in Catholicity, to have embraced the religious state; for although she possessed more knowledge than many of its children of the vast treasures of the Church, it required the constant example of one congenial to her, for the prac tical working of Catholic truth to be received by such a high-spirited and fondly indulged creature as Geraldine Carrington. But Eustace De Grey had well fulfilled the part assigned him; and then, his task accomplished, he too had been withdrawn, and his cherished pupil left to encounter the solitudes of the religious life. She was again lost in wonder, love, and praise! The long silence was at length broken by Mr. Everard's giving fresh vent to his disappointment, that, on becoming a Catholic, she had not filled that post which he esteemed so useful, so essential, for the mutual good understanding of both parties,-that of a moderate liberal Catholic, for the conciliation of Protestants. "Mr. Everard," said Geraldine, smiling, "I do not consider the conciliation of Protestants to be my primary duty. Truly grateful shall I be, if in following the dictates of my conscience, I soothe instead of alienating the devout of that body, but never by the grace of God will I take any step, or be withheld from taking it, by that sole motive. 'Explanation, not concession,' was Eustace De Grey's motto; and like him, I am ever ready to give the former, however wearied by the repetition of questions, which for three hundred years have been answered." "Well!" sighed Mr. Everard, "we must all save our souls in the manner our conscience dictates, and certainly if you insist on being a nun, you could not have chosen an order less objectionable. The order of our Lady of Mercy should not be termed a new order, for it is very ancient, and has never become obsolete. The duties only have varied with the necessities of the times. When it was founded by James the First, of Arragon, in consequence of a vow made during captivity, the brothers, in addition to the usual vows, took that of redeeming captives, and the heroic deeds of those holy men, must inspire respect amongst Protestants as well as Catholics. In the present day, the Brothers of Mercy, who are mostly settled in Germany, attend prisons, hospitals, and poor schools; performing the same good works as Les Sœurs Grises, and the Sisters of Charity. I am well pleased that a female community should bear the sweet name of Mercy, which I am surprised should not have been the case long ere this." "There is in Rome," said Geraldine, "a female community, entitled 'Le Sorelle della Misericordia.' I went with the Contessa to visit their convent, or, as it is always termed in Italy, their monastery; and also saw their hospital, with which I was delighted; and just such a hospital, where within the enclosure the sick and dying are watched day and night by the appointed sisters, I trust to see erected with the convent, in the great court of the abbey ruin." 6 "But why," said Mr. Everard, "can you not be satisfied to be a benefactress to this order, and yet keep your usual habits of life? for let me tell you, that all the sensible rational Catholics, are as much, if not more annoyed, than your Protestant friends, by the imprudent ardour of your conduct. Why,' say they, can she not remain in the same position of life she filled, before she embraced Catholicity? Why is she to rush on to a state not required by the Church, and strengthen the notion which Protestants entertain, that we are always in the clouds, and are never guided by common-sense in anything?" " 66 My dear friend," said Geraldine, "I trust, by the grace of God, to act more generously towards Him, than your timid or tepid Catholic critics would have done. In fact, had I listened to the worldlywise counsels I have received during my Catholic life, I should not only have resisted the grace of God, but greatly disedified my pious Protestant friends, who though holding an incomplete religion, are faithful to their belief, and justly expect to see, in Catholics, the same fidelity to their more perfect faith. I am quite aware, that guided by human feeling, I might better remain the lady of rank and wealth in the world, but how then could I venture to petition, in the Litany common to both Protestant and Catholic, From the neglect of thy holy inspirations, O Lord! deliver us?" 6 Geraldine began to feel these well-meant but ineffectual counsels very trying; her head ached intensely, and the nervous apprehension of being detained in London, until her father should arrive, increased her distress. Every carriage that passed on that side of the square, she feared might be his travelling equipage; and, when at length, a carriage did stop, and a knock was given, she started up, and uttering a hasty "God bless you," to Mr. Everard, took flight; not to her own apartment, but to one of those prepared for the companions of her journey to While listening in apprehension for the sound of the loved and dreaded voice of the General, she was inexpressibly relieved to find, that the newly-arrived were the future occupants of the rooms, and she hastened to give them welcome, Mr. Everard having hastily departed. One of these was a lady, who, from her early childhood, had desired to consecrate herself to God in the religious life, and whose pure and fervent piety had already inspired our heroine with sincere respect and affection. The other, like herself, a convert, had been till now personally a stranger, but many sympathies bound their hearts together, and she felt the tie of religious sisterhood already binding them in permanent attachment. Early on the following morning, the little band of aspirants to the veil, in which Jane Saunders was included, started from the metropolis to the |