de open. It is going to be war in which Catholic is pitted
against Protestant. Now, which side is your Church on?"

For a moment her blunt question startled him, and he stared at her
uncomprehendingly; but he quickly recovered his poise and replied
calmly, "Neither, Madam; it remains quite neutral."

"What!" she exclaimed. "Aren't you interested?"

"Pardon me if I say it; not at all."

"Oh!" she murmured, her eagerness subsiding. "Then I've made an awful
mistake!"

"No," he amended gently, "you have made a good friend. And, as such, I
again urge you first to respect the leaning which you mentioned a
moment ago and become actively affiliated with our Church here in New
York. Both you and the young lady. Will you not consider it?"

"Certainly I will consider it," she responded, brightening with hope.
"And I will go so far as to say that I have long had it in mind."

"Then, Madam, when that is accomplished, we may discuss the less
important matter of your ward's entrance into society--is it not so?"

Mrs. Hawley-Crowles rose, completely discomfited. "But the girl,
Monsignor, is already a Catholic--comes from a Catholic country. It is
she whom I am pitting against the Protestant."

"And you will efface yourself?" he queried with a peculiar smile.

"You are cruel," she retorted, affecting an air of injured innocence
as she stood before him with downcast eyes. "But--if you--"

"Madam," said Monsignor, "plainly, what is it that you wish me to
do?"

The sudden propounding of the question drew an equally sudden but less
thoughtful response.

"Tell the Beau--Madam Beaubien that you wish my ward to be received
into the best society, and for the reasons I have given you. That's
all."

"And is my influence with Madam Beaubien, and hers with the members of
fashionable society, sufficient to effect that?" he asked, an odd look
coming into his eyes.

"She has but to say the word to J. Wilton Ames, and his wife will
receive us both," said the woman, carried away by her eagerness. "And
that means strong Catholic influence in New York's most aristocratic
set!"

"Ah!"

"Monsignor," continued the woman eagerly, "will your Church receive an
altar from me in memory of my late husband?"

He reflected a moment. Then, slowly, and in a low, earnest tone, "It
would receive such a gift from one of the faith. When may we expect
you to become a communicant?"

The woman paled, and her heart suddenly chilled. She had wondered h