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. . Your reverence, if you have
any respect for your penitent, you'll please be good enough to leave my
wife to _my_ protection."
I saw that Father Dan had to gulp down his gathering anger, but he only
said:
"Say no more, my lord. No true priest ever comes between a man and the
wife whom God has given him. It's his business to unite people, not to
put them apart. As for this dear child, I have loved her since she was
an infant in arms, and never so much as at the present speaking, so I
don't need to learn my duty from one who appears to care no more for her
than for the rind of a lemon. I'll go, sir," said the old man, drawing
himself up like a wounded lion, "but it's not to your protection I
leave her--it's to that of God's blessed and holy love and will."
My husband had gone before the last words were spoken, but I think they
must have followed him as he went lunging down the stairs.
During this humiliating scene a hot flush of shame had come to my cheeks
and I wanted to tell Father Dan not to let it grieve him, but I could do
nothing but stoop and kiss his hand.


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