Manchurian Books

I alone am to blame."
The old man slowly shook his head.
"I am at least equally culpable," he said. "I shall answer truthfully
any question asked me, but I hope I am not in the wrong if I volunteer
no information."
The girl rose.
"You could do no wrong, Father, even if you tried; and now good-night.
Sleep soundly and fear nothing. On the rare occasions when the good
Archbishop was angry with me, I have always managed to placate him, and
I shall not fail in this instance."
Father Ambrose bade her good-night, and left the room with the languid
air of one thoroughly tired. As the young Countess stood there watching
his retreat and disappearance, her dainty little fist clenched, and her
eyebrows came together, bringing to her handsome face the determined
expression which marked the countenances of some of her Crusader
ancestors whose portraits decorated the walls.
"If ever I get that ruffian Prince Roland into my power," she said to
herself, "I will make him regret his treatment of so tolerant and
forbearing a man as Father Ambrose.


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