For he learned
that most of the money he inherited had come to the late Abbe
through large bequests left to him by those who had believed in him
as a righteous priest of spotless reputation, and Cyrillon's
conscience would not allow him to take advantage of money thus
obtained, as he sternly told himself, "on false pretences."
"My father would not have wished me to keep it after his public
confession," he said. "And I will not possess more than should have
been spared in common justice to aid my mother's life and mine. The
rest shall be used for the relief of those in need. And I know,--if
I told Angela--she would not wish it otherwise!"
So he had his way. And while his prompt help and personal
supervision of the distribution of his wealth brought happiness to
hundreds of homes, he was rewarded by seeing Angela grow stronger
every day. The hue of health came gradually back to her fair
cheeks,--her eyes once more recovered their steadfast brightness and
beauty, and as from time to time he visited her and watched her with
all the secret passion and tenderness he felt, his heart grew strong
within him.
"She will love me one day if I try to deserve her love," he thought.
"She will love me as she has never loved yet! No woman can
understand the true worth of love, unless her lover loves her more
than himself! This is a joy my Angela has not yet been given,--it
will be for me to give it to her!"
XXXVIII.
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