"Oh! they are not necessary? But you would like to?"
"I shall do so if possible. But I have done what is necessary."
It required all his will to keep quiet. He was as a man who had armed himself in steel, only to find that his enemy was in the form of a subtle vapour. He simply had not an idea what to do next. He would have given anything for the man to have risen and flown at his throat, for this girl was too much for them both.
"Yes," she said softly. "Well, it is hardly to be expected that my husband should give you leave to come here again. But I am very glad that you have done what you think necessary. No doubt it will be a satisfaction to you, Father Franklin, and to the poor old thing upstairs, too. While we—we—" she pressed her husband's knee—"we do not mind at all. Oh!—but there is one thing more."
"If you please," said Percy, wondering what on earth was coming.
"You Christians—forgive me if I say anything rude—but, you know, you Christians have a reputation for counting heads, and making the most of converts. We shall be so much obliged, Father Franklin, if you will give us your word not to advertise this—this incident. It would distress my husband, and give him a great deal of trouble."
"Mrs. Brand—" began the priest.
"One moment. . . . You see, we have not treated you badly. There has been no violence. We will promise not to make scenes with my mother. Will you promise us that?"
Percy had had time to consider, and he answered instantly.
"Certainly, I will promise that."
Mabel sighed contentedly.
