“You have no friend, say you? What then am I? Why will you not confide in me, and what can you fear? My severity? Have I ever used it with you? The dignity of my habit? Rosario, I lay aside the monk, and bid you consider me as no other than your friend, your father. Well may I assume that title, for never did parent watch over a child more fondly than I have watched over you. From the moment in which I first beheld you, I perceived sensations in my bosom till then unknown to me; I found a delight in your society which no one’s else could afford; and when I witnessed the extent of your genius and information, I rejoiced as does a father in the perfections of his son. Then lay aside your fears; speak to me with openness: speak to me, Rosario, and say that you will confide in me. If my aid or my pity can alleviate your distress.⁠ ⁠…”

“Yours can! Yours only can! Ah! Father, how willingly would I unveil to you my heart! How willingly would I declare the secret which bows me down with its weight! But oh! I fear! I fear!”

“What, my son?”

“That you should abhor me for my weakness; that the reward of my confidence should be the loss of your esteem.”

“How shall I reassure you? Reflect upon the whole of my past conduct, upon the paternal tenderness which I have ever shown you. Abhor you, Rosario? It is no longer in my power. To give up your society would be to deprive myself of the greatest pleasure of my life. Then reveal to me what afflicts you, and believe me while I solemnly swear.⁠ ⁠…”

“Hold!” interrupted the novice; “Swear, that whatever be my secret, you will not oblige me to quit the monastery till my novitiate shall expire.”

“I promise it faithfully, and as I keep my vows to you, may Christ keep his to mankind. Now then explain this mystery, and rely upon my indulgence.”