“And his word and his promise never fail, honey, because he is the Lord God,” said the old woman.

“No, never, never fail,” said May, fervently; “and now listen.  Here He, Infinite Truth, tells us himself why this Church can never be overcome, or err, or do wrong:  ‘I will pray the Father!’ said Jesus Christ to his disciples, ’and he will send you another comforter, that he may abide with you for ever—­even the SPIRIT OF TRUTH;’ and again he says:  ’When He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, he will guide you in all truth.’  And this spirit was the Holy Ghost—­the Spirit of God!  Oh, Aunt Mabel, only think! the Spirit of the Eternal God—­promised not only to the disciples, but to the Church for ever!  Do you understand me?”

“I understand, honey; and it’s the same now it was then, and will be for ever.  Oh, no, Satan, you can’t break up your master’s inheritance!  You may worrit His sheep, and steal off His stray lambs now and then, but, bless God, you’ll get no furder, ’cause the Master is thar hisself.  Oh, Miss May, lead me in, quick as you please!” cried the old woman, while tears streamed over her face.

“Dear Aunt Mabel, your wish will soon be gratified.  I will see Father Fabian to-morrow morning, after mass, and he will come to visit and instruct you in many things, which it is necessary for you to understand.  Were you ever baptized?”

“No, honey; my mother was a Baptist, and they don’t baptize babies; and after I growed up, I didn’t like ’em, somehow, and so it’s never been done.”

“In this case, I am glad it was not done,” said May; “for now, when, after due preparation, you receive holy baptism, your soul will be washed white and stainless as that of a Christian babe.  You will have a clean and beautiful banqueting room to receive the Lord Jesus when he comes to you, under the sacramental veil; and, being near the end of your pilgrimage, it is not likely that it will be again defiled by sin.  Oh, how happy is the thought of going up through faith and repentance, without a stain, into the presence of our divine Lord!”

“Me, Miss May! all that for an old crippled nigger like me?” exclaimed Aunt Mabel, wiping her eyes.

“Yes, all that, and more—­ten thousand times more.  But now, Aunt Mabel, you must begin to examine carefully your past life; to remember the sins which have blotted it, and beg of Almighty God the grace of true repentance, sincere, humble repentance, that you may make a good general confession.  And here,” continued May, taking off her own medal, and hanging it around Aunt Mabel’s neck, “say the little prayer on this a hundred times a day, if you can remember it:  ’Oh, Mary, conceived without sin, pity me, a poor sinner, who have recourse to thee.’  It is a medal of our Blessed Lady, who will obtain from her divine Son, for you, all that you may need.  Can you say the prayer?”

“Oh, Mary, conceived without sin, pity me, a poor sinner, who have recourse to thee,” repeated the old woman.