ow
far she might go with this clever churchman, and now she knew that she
had gone too far. But to retract--to have him relate this conversation
and her retraction to the Beaubien--were fatal! She had set her
trap--and walked into it. She groped blindly for an answer. Then,
raising her eyes and meeting his searching glance, she murmured
feebly, "Whenever you say, Monsignor."

When the man had departed, which he did immediately, the plotting
woman threw herself upon the davenport and wept with rage. "Belle,"
she wailed, as her wondering sister entered the room, "I'm going to
join the Catholic Church! But I'd go through Sheol to beat that Ames
outfit!"

CHAPTER 11

MONSIGNOR LAFELLE made another afternoon call on the Beaubien a few
days later. That lady, fresh from her bath, scented, powdered, and
charming in a loose, flowing Mandarin robe, received him graciously.

"But I can give you only a moment, Monsignor," she said, waving him to
a chair, while she stooped and tenderly took up the two spaniels. "I
have a dinner to-night, and so shall not listen unless you have
something fresh and really worth while to offer."

"My dear Madam," said he, bowing low before he sank into the great
leather armchair, "you are charming, and the Church is justly proud of
you."

"Tut, tut, my friend," she returned, knitting her brows. "That may be
fresh, I admit, but not worth listening to. And if you persist in that
vein I shall be obliged to have William set you into the street."

"I can not apologize for voicing the truth, dear Madam," he replied,
as his eyes roved admiringly over her comely figure. "The Church has
never ceased to claim you, however far you may have wandered from her.
But I will be brief. I am leaving for Canada shortly on a mission of
some importance. May I not take with me the consoling assurance that
you have at last heard and yielded to the call of the tender Mother,
who has never ceased to yearn for her beautiful, wayward daughter?"

The Beaubien smiled indulgently. "There," she said gently, "I thought
that was it. No, Monsignor, no," shaking her head. "When only a wild,
thoughtless girl I became a Catholic in order that I might marry
Gaspard de Beaubien. The priest urged; and I--poof! what cared I? But
the past eighteen years have confirmed me in some views; and one is
that I shall gain nothing, either here or hereafter, by renewing my
allegiance to the Church of Rome."

Monsignor sighed, and stro