Mother Gregoria came to see her that night. She had spoken to the doctor twice that afternoon and was well aware of how close Gabriella had come to dying. He mentioned what Gabriella herself had said, about the father of the child dying the day before, and he said he felt very sorry for her. And although she didn't say so, so did Mother Gregoria when she saw her. Gabriella looked deathly pale, her cheeks were as white as the sheets where she lay, and her lips seemed bluish and almost transparent. It was easy to believe they had barely been able to save her. She had had yet another transfusion by then, but so far, they seemed to have made no difference. She had hemorrhaged so violently, the doctor had told Mother Gregoria that it could take her months to recover. And for the Mother Superior, that posed a serious problem.

She sat next to Gabbie's bed for a while, and said very little to her. Gabbie was almost too weak to speak, and everything she tried to say made her cry, and cost her an enormous effort.

“Don't talk, my child,” Mother Gregoria said finally. She just sat there, holding her hand, and was grateful when Gabriella drifted off to sleep again. And it made the Mother Superior shudder to see that she looked dead as she lay there.

News of Father Connors’ death had already reached the convent that morning. There had been frantic whispers all day, and Mother Gregoria had made a solemn announcement in the dining hall at dinner. She said only that the young priest had died unexpectedly, there would be no services for him, and his remains were being cremated and returned for burial with his family in Ohio. It had been the archbishop's decision.

Joe's own mother, having committed suicide, was not buried in a Catholic cemetery, and Archbishop Flaherty's decision seemed to be the humane one. He had to be disposed of somehow. And no further explanation was being offered, but the nuns themselves knew that the fact that he was being cremated was suspicious. It was forbidden by the Catholic Church, and only a special dispensation would have made it possible for him to be cremated. As Mother Gregoria asked for a moment of silent prayer for the peace of his soul, their eyes were filled with questions. And later, when she looked around the room at them, she could see that Sister Anne had been crying.

It was several hours later when Sister Anne appeared at the door of the Mother Superiors office, looking stricken. As she waved to her to come in, the Mother Superior asked, “Is something wrong?”

At first the young nun said nothing, and then she came in and sat down at Mother Gregoria's invitation, and burst instantly into tears. “It's all my fault,” she wailed. She knew that something terrible must have happened, and she was filled with remorse now.

“I'm equally certain that you had nothing to do with it,” Mother Gregoria said calmly. “Father Connors’ death is a shock to us all but it has nothing to do with you, Sister Anne. The circumstances are rather complicated, and he apparently had a health problem none of us were aware of.”

“One of the altar boys told the man at the grocery store that he hanged himself,” she sobbed openly, having heard the horror story third-hand from the mailman, who stopped at the grocery store to buy a soda before he delivered the mail at St. Matthew's. And Mother Gregoria was not pleased to know that.

“I can assure you, Sister, that's nonsense.”

“And where is Gabriella? Sister Eugenia said she was taken away in an ambulance and no one knows why. Where is she?”

“She's very well. She had an attack of appendicitis last night, and came to tell me about it early this morning.” But Sister Anne had seen the somber-faced priests from St. Stephen's leaving Mother Gregoria's office. The convent was a small community, an enclosed world, and like others of its kind, even here in the arms of God, it was filled with gossip and rumors. And there had certainly been plenty of them that morning, but Mother Gregoria was far from happy to hear it. All she wanted to do now was reassure the young postulant who felt so guilty.

“I wrote you an anonymous letter,” she confessed haltingly, sobbing between words, “about them, because I thought she was flirting with him… Oh, Mother… I was jealous… I didn't want her to have what I lost before I came here…”

“That was wrong of you, my child,” Mother Gregoria said calmly, remembering the letter only too well, and the concern it caused her. “But the letter was harmless. I paid no attention to it at the time, and your fears were groundless. They were merely good friends, and they only admired each other in the life in Christ they shared. None of us here need to involve ourselves in the worries of the world. We are free of them. And now you must forget all this, and go back to your Sisters.” She comforted the girl for a while, and sent her back to Sister Emanuel with a little note, urging her to come to the Mother Superior's office as soon as the postulants were in bed. She sent the same to Sister Immaculata, and spoke to the others herself to come to a meeting that night after they had completed their duties.

There were twelve faces looking at her expectantly across her desk at ten o'clock that night, and she urged each of them to quell the rumors that were flying. It was a time of great grief for all of them, particularly the priests at St. Stephen's, but she felt that it was their responsibility as well to protect the others in the community from them. It served no purpose to seek further information about the details, or fan the flames of a potential scandal. On the contrary, they had every reason to want to silence the whispers of the devil. She was firm, and hard, and very powerful in what she said, and when they asked about Gabriella's whereabouts, she told them nothing more than what she had told Sister Anne. She had had an attack of appendicitis and would be back in a few days when she was better.

“But are the rumors true then, Mother? Is it true what they are saying?” Sister Mary Margaret was the oldest nun in the convent, and had no hesitation in questioning her superior, who was far younger. “They say that she and Father Connors were in love with each other.” But not, Mother Gregoria silently thanked God for small indulgences, that she was pregnant. “Is that possible? Did he kill himself? The novices were all buzzing with it this morning.”

“And we won't be, Sister Mary Margaret,” Mother Gregoria said sternly. “There are circumstances surrounding Father Connors’ death of which I am not aware, nor do I wish to be, nor do I wish you to worry about it any further. He is in the hands of God, where we will all be one day. We must pray for his soul, and not to discover the details of how he got there. I am certain that whatever happened between him and Sister Bernadette was entirely without merit. They were both young, intelligent, and innocent. If they were drawn to each other in any way, I'm sure that neither of them was aware of it. And I do not wish to hear any more about it. Is that clear, Sisters? All of you? The rumors are over. And to be certain that my wishes on this subject are carried out, and those of the Fathers at St. Stephen's, the convent will maintain silence for the next seven days. There is to be no conversation whatsoever, not a word spoken among any of us, as of the moment we rise tomorrow morning. And when we speak again, let it be on hallowed subjects.”

“Yes, Mother,” they said in unison, mollified by the force with which she said it. But this was more than just a directive from the Mother Superior. She could not bear to hear the things they were saying about Gabriella. She still loved her far too much to hear her name linked with the scandal that had caused a young priest to take his life. And she was grateful that no one had discovered she'd been pregnant. Fortunately, the priests who had seen her collapse were as anxious to keep the matter quiet as she was. But they had also agreed on the inevitable resolution before leaving Mother Gregoria that morning. Gabriella's rapid departure in the ambulance had made a huge impression on them all, and it was nothing short of miraculous that almost no one had seen what had really happened. The story of her appendectomy seemed to cover the situation for the moment.

Mother Gregoria dismissed the other nuns summarily, and remained in her office briefly after they left, and then went to the church and fell on her knees, praying to the Blessed Virgin to help her, as she slowly gave way to the wracking sobs that had been begging to be released since morning. She couldn't bear what had happened to them, couldn't bear losing Gabriella, couldn't stand what might happen to her in a cruel world that had so badly ravaged her before, and which she was in no way prepared for. If only they had listened to the wisdom in their hearts, if only they had stopped before it was too late… but they were both so young, and so innocent… and so unaware of the risks they were taking. She knelt in prayer, thinking of the child Gabriella had been when she came to them. She prayed for Joe Connors’ soul as well, knowing only too well how tortured he must have been the night he died, and how bereft Gabriella must feel now. And she was sure, as she prayed for both of them, that there could be no hell for either of them worse than that one.





Chapter 14




MOTHER GREGORIA DID not go to see Gabriella in the hospital again, but she called frequently to see how she was, and was encouraged by the reports from the nurses. They had stopped giving her transfusions finally. They had given her all they could, without risking an adverse reaction, and now her body had to repair itself, in time. But Mother Gregoria knew only too well that the body would heal faster than the heart would.