“The Lady Superior of St. Clara is now very old, and his lordship wishes soon to fill her place.  For that purpose he has selected his adopted daughter.  Your talents, education, wealth, and high position in society, eminently fit you for one of the highest dignities on earth.”

“A thousand thanks for the kindness of my lord Bishop,” said I; “but your reverence has not altered my mind in the least.  I can never bow down to the feet of any Lady Superior, neither will I ever consent to see a single human being degraded at my feet.  The holy Bible says, ’Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.’” “Bible, my daughter!” exclaimed the priest, “Where did you see that dangerous book?  Know you not that his holiness the Pope has placed it in the Index Expurgatorius, because it has been the means of the damnation of millions of souls?  Not because it is in itself a bad book, but because it is a theological work, prepared only for the priests and ministers of our holy religion.  Therefore, it is always a very dangerous book in the hands of women or laymen, who wrest the Scriptures to their own destruction.”

“Well, reverend sir,” I replied, “you seem determined to differ from the Lord Jesus and his apostles.  I read in the New Testament that we should search the Scriptures because they testify of Christ.  And one of the apostles, I don’t remember which, said, ’all scripture is given by the inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine and for instruction in righteousness.’  Now, reverend sir, if the people have souls, as well as the priests, why should they not read the word of God which speaks of Christ and is profitable for instruction?”

“You are almost a heretic!” exclaimed the priest, “and you talk very much like one.”  His countenance changed to a pale sickly hue, as he said, “My daughter, where did you get that dangerous book?  If you have, it in your possession, give it to me, and I will bless you, and pray for you to the blessed Madonna that she may save you from the infernal pit of heresy.”

“I do not own the blessed book,” said I, “but I wish I did.  I would give one hundred scudi in gold for a copy of the New Testament.  I borrowed a copy from a friend, and returned it to the owner again.  But I understand that there are copies to be had in London, and when I have a good opportunity I shall send for a copy, if I can do it unbeknown to any one.”

“Enough, enough!” exclaimed the priest.  “I shall be in the tribunal of penance at six o’clock P.M.; there I shall expect to meet you.  You need pardon immediately, and spiritual advice.  Should you die as you now are without absolution, you would be lost and damned forever.  I tremble for you, my dear daughter, seeing that the devil has got such a powerful hold of you.  It may even be absolutely necessary to kill the body to save your soul; for should you relapse again into heresy after due penance for this crime has been performed, it would be impossible to renew you again to repentance, seeing you crucify the Lord and the Madonna afresh, and put them to an open shame.”