"
"Brother," said the Superior, "there be thousands of flowers fairer than
man ever saw that grow up in waste places and in deep dells and shades
of mountains; but God bears each one in His heart, and delighteth
Himself in silence with them: and so doth He with these poor, simple,
unknown souls. The True Church is not a flaunting queen who goes boldly
forth among men displaying her beauties, but a veiled bride, a dove that
is in the cleft of the rocks, whose voice is known only to the Beloved.
Ah! when shall the great marriage-feast come, when all shall behold her
glorified? I had hoped to see the day here in Italy: but now"----
The father stopped, and seemed to lapse into unconscious musing,--his
large eye growing fixed and mysterious in its expression.
"The brothers have been telling me somewhat of the tribulations you have
been through," said Father Antonio, who thought he saw a good opening to
introduce the subject nearest his heart.
"No more of that!--no more!" said the Superior, turning away his head
with an expression of pain and weariness; "rather let us look up. What
think you, brother, are all _these_ doing now?" he said, pointing to the
saints in the picture. "They are all alive and well, and see clearly
through our darkness." Then, rising up, he added, solemnly, "Whatever
man may say or do, it is enough for me to feel that my dearest Lord and
His blessed Mother and all the holy archangels, the martyrs and prophets
and apostles, are with me.
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