suggest that you lie to your parents and deliberately disobey their wishes?”
She looked at the ground, afraid to answer. If she gave Father the answer he was looking for it would hurt Danny’s feelings. If she didn’t, Father would be angry with her.
“Never mind, Mary Margaret. We both know what kind of a young man he is,” he said, pushing her gently aside and stepping close to Danny. “I suggest you leave right now, Mr. Ellis, and that you don’t bother her again.”
Mary Margaret watched as Danny first backed away, then almost ran to his friends who were ready to bolt, too. Sadness washed over her as she realized Danny would never again talk to her. She smiled nervously at Father Antonio, but his dark brooding eyes were still fixed on Danny.
He in a few minutes ravished this fair creature, or at least would have ravished her, if she had not, by a timely coincidence prevented him.
-Henry Fielding-
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mary Margaret finished the last of her homework and put her books away. She still had an hour before her mother would arrive to pick her up, and the telephone hadn’t rung in quite awhile. Mrs. Hunter had left for the evening and both of the priests were out visiting sick parishioners. She knew she shouldn’t go upstairs to the priest’s private quarters, but she couldn’t resist the urge to take a quick look around. She’d promised the girls at school that she would let them know what kinds of things priests kept in their private rooms, and this was her chance. And, she really wanted to see if Father Antonio had pictures of friends and family in his room.
Before going upstairs, she checked the front door to make sure it was locked, then went around to the back door of the rectory to see if either of the priest’s cars were pulling in. They weren’t, so she shut and locked the back door as well and ran up the stairs.
The room right at the top of the stairs was furnished with a twin bed, dresser, and a desk and chair. A crucifix on the wall above the head of the bed was the only adornment other than a mirror over the dresser. Deciding this room was obviously not occupied, she moved on. Across the hall and down a bit was another bedroom identical to the previous one. She passed a bathroom and found another bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was open, so she went in. This room had to be Father O’Malley’s. A map of Ireland was on one wall, and an Irish Blessing on the next. The requisite crucifix was at the head of his bed as well. On Father O’Malley’s dresser was a bottle of Jameson whiskey along with his favorite Waterford crystal tumbler. Also on the dresser was a large bag of individually wrapped miniature chocolate bars. Mary Margaret smiled to herself as she backed out of his room, remembering the many chocolate bars he’d passed out over the years to the grade school children.
The door across the hall from Father O’Malley’s room was closed. It was the only room she hadn’t checked, so it had to be Father Antonio’s. Her pulse quickened as she placed her hand on the knob to open the door. She turned it cautiously and was disappointed to find the room looked just like the first two. Again, the only adornment on the walls was the crucifix and the mirror above the dresser. A Bible was on the desk, along with a Rosary made from brown seeds.
Then she noticed a box on the floor under the bed. It was a locked wooden box, and the key was still in the lock. She picked it up and placed it on the desk. Before turning the key, Mary Margaret walked to the door and out into the hallway. She listened for a moment, and decided the house was still empty. She went back and sat in the chair, her heart now racing. She turned the key and opened the lid to the box.
She didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but the only items in the box were photographs. She picked them up and started going through them. They’d been taken at the festival a few weeks ago, and it
She looked at the ground, afraid to answer. If she gave Father the answer he was looking for it would hurt Danny’s feelings. If she didn’t, Father would be angry with her.
“Never mind, Mary Margaret. We both know what kind of a young man he is,” he said, pushing her gently aside and stepping close to Danny. “I suggest you leave right now, Mr. Ellis, and that you don’t bother her again.”
Mary Margaret watched as Danny first backed away, then almost ran to his friends who were ready to bolt, too. Sadness washed over her as she realized Danny would never again talk to her. She smiled nervously at Father Antonio, but his dark brooding eyes were still fixed on Danny.
He in a few minutes ravished this fair creature, or at least would have ravished her, if she had not, by a timely coincidence prevented him.
-Henry Fielding-
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mary Margaret finished the last of her homework and put her books away. She still had an hour before her mother would arrive to pick her up, and the telephone hadn’t rung in quite awhile. Mrs. Hunter had left for the evening and both of the priests were out visiting sick parishioners. She knew she shouldn’t go upstairs to the priest’s private quarters, but she couldn’t resist the urge to take a quick look around. She’d promised the girls at school that she would let them know what kinds of things priests kept in their private rooms, and this was her chance. And, she really wanted to see if Father Antonio had pictures of friends and family in his room.
Before going upstairs, she checked the front door to make sure it was locked, then went around to the back door of the rectory to see if either of the priest’s cars were pulling in. They weren’t, so she shut and locked the back door as well and ran up the stairs.
The room right at the top of the stairs was furnished with a twin bed, dresser, and a desk and chair. A crucifix on the wall above the head of the bed was the only adornment other than a mirror over the dresser. Deciding this room was obviously not occupied, she moved on. Across the hall and down a bit was another bedroom identical to the previous one. She passed a bathroom and found another bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was open, so she went in. This room had to be Father O’Malley’s. A map of Ireland was on one wall, and an Irish Blessing on the next. The requisite crucifix was at the head of his bed as well. On Father O’Malley’s dresser was a bottle of Jameson whiskey along with his favorite Waterford crystal tumbler. Also on the dresser was a large bag of individually wrapped miniature chocolate bars. Mary Margaret smiled to herself as she backed out of his room, remembering the many chocolate bars he’d passed out over the years to the grade school children.
The door across the hall from Father O’Malley’s room was closed. It was the only room she hadn’t checked, so it had to be Father Antonio’s. Her pulse quickened as she placed her hand on the knob to open the door. She turned it cautiously and was disappointed to find the room looked just like the first two. Again, the only adornment on the walls was the crucifix and the mirror above the dresser. A Bible was on the desk, along with a Rosary made from brown seeds.
Then she noticed a box on the floor under the bed. It was a locked wooden box, and the key was still in the lock. She picked it up and placed it on the desk. Before turning the key, Mary Margaret walked to the door and out into the hallway. She listened for a moment, and decided the house was still empty. She went back and sat in the chair, her heart now racing. She turned the key and opened the lid to the box.
She didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but the only items in the box were photographs. She picked them up and started going through them. They’d been taken at the festival a few weeks ago, and it
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