ome one whom Lady Dashwood esteems
not; that would be indeed a disaster," said Louise, regretfully. "Ah,
indeed a disaster," and she ran the brush lengthily down Gwendolen's
hair.

"I do wish you wouldn't talk," said Gwen. "It isn't your business,
Louise."

"Ah," murmured Louise, brushing away, "I will not speak of disasters;
but I pray--I pray continually, and particularly I pray to St. Joseph
to protect M. the Warden from any disaster whatever." Then she added: "I
believe so much in St. Joseph."

"St. Joseph!" said Gwendolen, sharply. "Why on earth?"

"I believe much in him," said Louise.

"I don't like him," said Gwendolen. "He always spoils those pictures of
the Holy Family, he and his beard; he is like Abraham."

"He spoils! That is not so; he is no doubt much, much older than the
Blessed Virgin, but that was necessary, and he is un peu homme du
monde--to protect the Lady Mother and Child. I pray to St. Joseph,
because the good God, who was the Blessed Child, was always so gentle,
so obedient, so tender. He will still listen to his kind protector, St.
Joseph."

"Oh, Louise, you are funny," said Gwendolen, laughing.

"Funny!" exclaimed Louise. "Holy Jesus!"

"Well, it all happened such ages ago, and you talk as if it were going
on now."

"It is now--always now--to God," exclaimed Louise, fervently; "there is
no past--all is now."

This was far too metaphysical for Gwendolen. "You are funny," she
repeated.

"Funny--again funny. Ah, but I forget, Mademoiselle is Protestant."

"No, I'm not," said Gwen; "I belong to the English branch of the
Catholic Church."

"We have no branch, we are a trunk," said Louise, sadly.

"Well, I'm exactly what the Warden is and what Lady Dashwood is," said
Gwendolen.

"Ah, my Lady Dashwood," said Louise, breaking into a tone of tragic
melancholy. "I pray always for her. Ah! but she is good, and the good
God knows it. But she is not well." And Louise changed her tone to one
of mild speculation. "Madame perhaps is souffrante because of so much
fresh air and the absence of shops."

"It is foolish to suppose that the Warden does just what Lady Dashwood
tells him. That doesn't happen in this part of the world," said
Gwendolen, her mind still rankling on Louise's remark about Lady
Dashwood not esteeming--as if, indeed, Lady Dashwood was the important
person, as if, indeed, it was to please Lady Dashwood that the Warden
was to marry!

"Ah, no," said Louise. "The monsieur