turned for answer, that there was none but Father Christopher who corresponded to the description."
"Oh! unfortunate! When did he go?"
"The day before yesterday."
"Oh! if I had only come a few days sooner, as I wished to do! And do they not know when he will return?"
"Why! my dear woman! the father provincial knows, if any one does; but when one of our preachers has taken his flight, it is impossible to say on what branch he will rest. They want him here; they want him there; for we have convents in the four quarters of the world. Father Christopher will make a great noise at Rimini, with his Lent sermon; the fame of this great preacher will resound every where, and it is our duty to give him up, because we live on the charity of others, and it is but right we should serve all the world."
"Oh! misery! misery!" cried Agnes, weeping; "what shall I do without this good man? He was a father to us; what a loss! what a loss!"
"Hear me, good woman—Father Christopher was truly a good man, but we have others equally so; there is Father Antanasio, Father Girolamo, Father Zaccaria! Father Zaccaria is a worthy man! And you must not wonder, as some ignorant people do, at his shrill voice and his little beard; I do not say that he is a preacher, because every one has his talent; but to give advice, he is the man."
"Oh! holy patience!" cried Agnes, with a mixture of gratitude and vexation one feels at an offer containing more good-will than suitableness; "what is it to me what another man is, when he who is gone knew our affairs, and had every thing prepared to help us!"
"Then you must have patience."
"I know that. Excuse the trouble I have given you."
"That is of no consequence, my good woman; I pity you; if you decide upon asking advice of one of the fathers, you will find the convent still in its place. But let me see you soon, when I collect the oil."
"God preserve you," said Agnes; and she proceeded
