"Why
should you say that?"
"I say what I know. I read your heart. And it is right that you should
love him."
"No! For he insulted me."
"You thought so. It was a deceiving thought. Let him prove it false.
Come to my garden to-morrow, and I will bring him to you there. I would
not say this unless I were sure of him. And I tell you again, his
salvation is in you. You have driven him to the drug of forgetfulness.
You owe it to his soul to give him justice. For the rest, let him
plead."
"Madame Veentaire and Meestaire Carleton," announced the shabby
man-servant, blundering abruptly in, as if the door had broken away in
front of him.
The fire died out of the priest's face, but there was no sense of defeat
in his eyes. His calm after excitement was communicated subtly to Mary,
and enabled her to greet her new guests without confusion.
The cure bowed with old-fashioned politeness, and with a slight
fluttering of the voice Mary made him known to the chaplain's wife and
Dick Carleton.
"But we know each other already, Monsieur le Cure and I," exclaimed
Rose, putting out her hand. She explained this to Mary with her bright,
enthusiastic smile. "My husband and I take long walks together. One of
our first was up to Roquebrune; and we went into the church--such a
huge, important church for a little hill town! Monsieur le Cure was
there, and we talked, and he showed us the picture under a curtain. How
I do love pictures under curtains, don't you? They're so beautifully
mysterious.
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