Читать книгу Fabiola; Or, The Church of the Catacombs онлайн

63 страница из 93

Agnes was almost overcome; but she was more eager than ever to possess such a treasure of virtue, and said, “I see, Syra, that no motive addressed to your own interest can move you, I must therefore use a more selfish plea. I want to have you with me, that I may improve by your advice and example. Come, you will not refuse such a request.”

“Selfish,” replied the slave, “you can never be. And therefore I will appeal to yourself from your request. You know Fabiola, and you love her. What a noble soul, and what a splendid intellect she possesses! What great qualities and high accomplishments, if they only reflected the light of truth! And how jealously does she guard in herself that pearl of virtues, which only we know how to prize! What a truly great Christian she would make!”

“Go on, for God’s sake, dear Syra,” broke out Agnes, all eagerness. “And do you hope for it?”

“It is my prayer day and night; it is my chief thought and aim; it is the occupation of my life. I will try to win her by patience, by assiduity, even by such unusual discussions as we have held to-day. And when all is exhausted, I have one resource more.”

Правообладателям