With your good leave, gentlemen," said Father Francis, dryly, "I will
be the next to pay my respects to her." With this he opened the window
and stepped out.

Kate saw him, and felt very nervous. She met him with apparent delight.

He bestowed his morning benediction on her, and then they walked
silently side by side on the gravel; and from the dining-room window it
looked like anything but what it was,--a fencing match.

Father Francis was the first to break silence. He congratulated her on
her good fortune, and on the advantage it might prove to the true
Church.

Kate waited quietly till he had quite done, and then said, "What, I may
go into a convent _now_ that I can bribe the door open?"

The scratch was feline, feminine, sudden, and sharp. But, alas! Father
Francis only smiled at it. Though not what we call spiritually-minded,
he was a man of a Christian temper. "Not with my good-will, my
daughter," said he; "I am of the same mind still, and more than ever.
You must marry forthwith, and rear children in the true faith."

"What a hurry you are in."

"Your own conduct has made it necessary."

"Why, what have I done now?"

"No harm. It was a good and humane action to prevent bloodshed, but the
world is not always worthy of good actions. People are beginning to make
free with your name for your interfering in the duel."

Kate fired up. "Why can't people mind their own business?"

"I do not exactly know," said the priest, coolly, "nor is it worth
inquiring. We must take human nature as it is, and do for the best. You
must marry him, and stop their tongues."

Kate pretended to reflect. "I believe you are right," said she, at last;
"and indeed I must do as you would have me; for, to tell the truth, in
an unguarded moment, I pitied him so that I half promised I _would_."

"Indeed!" said Father Francis. "This is the first I have heard of it."

Kate replied that was no wonder, for it was only last night she had so
committed herself.

"Last night!" said Father Francis; "how can that be? He was never out of
my sight till we went to bed."

"O, there I beg to differ," said the lady. "While you were all tippling
in the dining-room, he was better employed,--making love by moonlight.
And O what a terrible thing opportunity is, and the moon another! There!
what with the moonlight, and my pitying him so, and all he has suffered
for me, and my being rich now, and having something to give him, we two
are engaged. See