her countenance troubled.

"I have every confidence in you, Monsieur le Cure, but--"

"But you hesitate about believing me," interrupted the Abbe, piqued
at not finding in one of his flock the blind obedience on which he had
reckoned. "You must know, nevertheless, that your pastor has no interest
in deceiving you, and that when he seeks to influence you, he has in
view only your well-being in this world and in the next."

"I do not doubt your good intentions," replied Reine, with firmness,
"but a promise can not be annulled without sufficient cause. I have
given my word to Claudet, and I am too loyal at heart to break faith
with him without letting him know the reason."

"You will find some pretext."

"And supposing that Claudet would be content with such a pretext, my own
conscience would not be," objected the young girl, raising her clear,
honest glance toward the priest; "your words have entered my soul, they
are troubling me now, and it will be worse when I begin to think this
matter over again. I can not bear uncertainty. I must see my way clearly
before me. I entreat you then, Monsieur le Cure, not to do things by
halves. You have thought it your duty to tell me I can not wed with
Claudet; now tell me why not?"

"Why not? why not?" repeated the Abbe, angrily. "I distress myself in
telling you that I am not authorized to satisfy your unwise curiosity!
You must humble your intelligence and believe without arguing."

"In matters of faith, that may be possible," urged Reine, obstinately,
"but my marriage has nothing to do with discussing the truths of our
holy religion. I therefore respectfully ask to be enlightened, Monsieur
le Cure; otherwise--"

"Otherwise?" repeated the Abby Pernot, inquiringly, rolling his eyes
uneasily.

"Otherwise, I shall keep my word respectably, and I shall marry
Claudet."

"You will not do that?" said he, imploringly, joining his hands as if in
supplication; "after being openly warned by me, you dare not burden your
soul with such a terrible responsibility. Come, my child, does not
the possibility of committing a mortal sin alarm your conscience as a
Christian?"

"I can not sin if I am in ignorance, and as to my conscience, Monsieur
le Cure, do you think it is acting like a Christian to alarm without
enlightening?"

"Is that your last word?" inquired the Abbe, completely aghast.

"It is my last word," she replied, vehemently, moved both by a feeling
of self-respect, and a