The Wonder Read Online Free Page A

have thought; she was perspiring under her cloak. “How many children have they at home?”
    â€œJust the girl now, since Pat’s gone over, God bless him,” said Mr. Thaddeus.
    Gone where? America seemed most likely to Lib, or Britain, or the Colonies. Ireland, an improvident mother, seemed to ship half her skinny brood abroad. Two children only for the O’Donnells, then; that seemed a paltry total to Lib.
    They passed a shabby cabin with a smoking chimney. A path slanted off the lane towards another cottage. Lib’s eyes scanned the bogland ahead for any sign of the O’Donnells’ estate. Was she allowed to ask the priest for more than plain facts? Each of the nurses had been hired to form her own impressions. But then it struck Lib that this walk might be the only chance she’d get to talk to this
trusted friend of the family.
“Mr. Thaddeus, if I may—can you attest to the honesty of the O’Donnells?”
    A moment went by. “Sure I’ve no reason to doubt it.”
    Lib had never had a conversation with a Roman Catholic priest before and couldn’t read this one’s politic tone.
    The nun’s eyes stayed on the green horizon.
    â€œMalachy’s a man of few words,” Mr. Thaddeus went on. “A teetotaler.”
    That surprised Lib.
    â€œNot a drop since he took the Pledge, before the children were born. His wife’s a leading light of the parish, very active in the Sodality of Our Lady.”
    These details meant little to Lib, but she got the drift. “And Anna O’Donnell?”
    â€œA wonderful little girl.”
    In what sense? Virtuous? Or exceptional? Clearly the chit had them all charmed. Lib looked hard at the priest’s curved profile. “Have you ever advised her to refuse nourishment, perhaps as some sort of spiritual exercise?”
    His hands spread in protest. “Mrs. Wright. I don’t think you’re of our faith?”
    Picking her words, Lib said, “I was baptized in the Church of England.”
    The nun seemed to be watching a passing crow. Avoiding contamination by staying out of the conversation?
    â€œWell,” said Mr. Thaddeus, “let me assure you that Catholics are required to do without food for only a matter of hours, for instance from midnight to the taking of Holy Communion the following morning. We also abstain from meat on Wednesdays and Fridays and during Lent. Moderate fasting mortifies the cravings of the body, you see,” he added as easily as if he were speaking of the weather.
    â€œMeaning the appetite for food?”
    â€œAmong others.”
    Lib moved her eyes to the muddy ground in front of her boots.
    â€œWe also express sorrow over the agonies of Our Lord by sharing them even a little,” he continued, “so fasting can be a useful penance.”
    â€œMeaning that if one punishes oneself, one’s sins will be forgiven?” asked Lib.
    â€œOr those of others,” said the nun under her breath.
    â€œJust as Sister says,” the priest answered, “if we offer up our suffering in a generous spirit to be set to another’s account.”
    Lib pictured a gigantic ledger filled with inky debits and credits.
    â€œBut the key is, fasting is never to be carried to an extreme or to the point of harming the health.”
    Hard to spear this slippery fish. “Then why do you think Anna O’Donnell has gone against the rules of her own church?”
    The priest’s broad shoulders heaved into a shrug. “Many’s the time I’ve reasoned with her over the past months, pleaded with her to take a bite of something. But she’s deaf to all persuasion.”
    What was it about this spoiled miss that she’d managed to enrol all the grown-ups around her in this charade?
    â€œHere we are,” murmured Sister Michael, gesturing towards the end of a faint track.
    This couldn’t be their destination, surely? The cabin was in