“Jonathan?” he asked slowly.  “Why do you blame him?”

“Father, I feared to speak of it,” she stammered, shocked that she had so clearly betrayed herself.  “He is your friend, and you become so agitated when he is mentioned.  But you must listen now.  Before your return he asked me, from Sister Agatha, for his wife; and after I refused him—­for oh, father, I cannot help it, I have an aversion to him—­he pursued me with a wild love that frightened me.  He embraced and kissed me against my will, and then begged I would be silent about it.  I promised; but that was before I knew I had a father living.  Now I have told it, and I am glad you know all about the matter.”

Her eyes rested trustingly on him, but she could not catch a responsive glance; he kept his head turned away, and looked out into the distance with a countenance full of distress and anguish.

“Dear father, are you angry with me?” she asked humbly.

“Not angry, no; but it is a misfortune—­a great misfortune,” he whispered.

At this moment there was a knock at the door; it opened, and Brother Jonathan entered.  Father and daughter stared at him without stirring; no one uttered a word; no one moved.  Mauer remained leaning back in his chair; Carmen did not rise from her kneeling posture, and only pressed her head closer to her father’s bosom.

Jonathan silently regarded the pair.  Never had Carmen looked more beautiful than in this clinging posture—­in this outpouring of love and confidence.  To see her thus reclining on her father’s breast was nothing to give rise to jealous feelings, but it increased his longing to have her leaning thus on him.

“You are troubled; I know it, and have come to help you,” he said at last, in his gentlest tones.  “I am sorry, very sorry, that Sister Carmen has allowed herself to be so far carried away by her feelings as to lose all sense of duty and humility, and to speak such wild words before the people.  We must see if things cannot be arranged pleasantly.  I will consider what can be done, if Carmen will permit me to act at all for her in the matter.”

“Dear Brother, spare me my child,” pleaded Mauer, with faltering voice.  “She cannot accept the lot which has fallen on her; she must not go so far from me just now, when I have found her again.  I cannot live without my daughter.”

“You know, dear Brother,” returned Jonathan, “we of the faith always recognize in the casting of lots the most direct indication of the will of Heaven.  Each one must fulfil the duty laid upon him, and not pause to consider if it concurs with his own wishes or not.  If Carmen’s hand is still free, she must follow the call which has been given her.  She may not be separated from us forever.  Perhaps in a few years she will return with her husband.”

“A few years!  Will they be granted to me?” said Mauer, sadly.

“Dear brother, I have already remarked that if Carmen is already betrothed, the choice made by lot is null and void, and the elders must be requested to give their consent to the alliance she has in view,” replied Jonathan, sharply, emphasizing each word.