Cure, will be as
satisfied with your new parishioners."

"My parishioners!" exclaimed the Cure, all at once recovering speech,
movement, life, everything which for some moments had completely
abandoned him. "My parishioners! Pardon me, Madame, Mademoiselle, I am
so agitated. You will be--you are Catholics?"

"Certainly we are Catholics."

"Catholics! Catholics!" repeated the Cure.

"Catholics! Catholics!" echoed old Pauline.

Mrs. Scott looked from the Cure to Pauline, from Pauline to the Cure,
much surprised that a single word should produce such an effect, and, to
complete the tableau, Jean appeared carrying the two little travelling
bags.

The Cure and Pauline saluted him with the same words:

"Catholics! Catholics!"

"Ah! I begin to understand," said Mrs. Scott, laughing. "It is our name,
our country; you must have thought that we were Protestants. Not at all.
Our mother was a Canadian, French and Catholic by descent; that is why
my sister and I both speak French, with an accent, it is true, and
with certain American idioms, but yet in such a manner as to be able to
express nearly all we want to say. My husband is a Protestant, but he
allows me complete liberty, and my two children are Catholics. That is
why, Monsieur l'Abbe, we wished to come and see you the very first day."

"That is one reason," continued Bettina, "but there is also another; but
for that reason we shall want our little bags."

"Here they are," said Jean.

While the two little bags passed from the hands of the officer to
those of Mrs. Scott and Bettina, the Cure introduced Jean to the two
Americans, but his agitation was so great that the introduction was not
made strictly according to rule. The Cure only forgot one thing, it is
true, but that was a thing tolerably essential in an introduction--the
family name of Jean.

"It is Jean," said he, "my godson, lieutenant of artillery, now
quartered at Souvigny. He is one of the family."

Jean made two deep bows, the Americans two little ones, after which they
foraged in their bags, from which each drew a 'rouleau' of 1,000 francs,
daintily inclosed in green sheaths of serpent-skin, clasped with gold.

"I have brought you this for your poor," said Mrs. Scott.

"And I have brought this," said Bettina.

"And besides that, Monsieur le Cure, I am going to give you five hundred
francs a month," said Mrs. Scott.

"And I will do like my sister."

Delicately they slipped their offerings in