k until spoken to. And you are to be in disgrace for
three days."

"Oh! Three days?"

"Go ahead."

And again he obeyed.

Elinor was firm. For three days the disgrace endured. But it was not of
a nature to demolish hope or even to retard digestion. And Solomon, who
was a keen observer, displayed no unusual sympathy, and evidently failed
to realize that his master was in any serious trouble.

On pleasant evenings Pats and Elinor often went to the beach below and
sat upon the rocks, always attended by Solomon, the only chaperon at
hand. Here they were nearer the water. And one evening they found much
happiness in watching a big, round moon as it rose from the surface of
the Gulf. The silence, the shimmer of the moonlight on the waters--all
tended to draw lovers closer together. Already the heads of these two
people were so near that the faintest tone sufficed. And they murmured
many things--things strictly between themselves, that would appear of an
appalling foolishness if repeated here--or anywhere. They also talked on
serious subjects; subjects so transcendentally serious as to be of
interest only by night. Like all other lovers they exchanged
confidences. Once, when Pats was speaking of his family she suddenly
withdrew her hand. "By the way, there is something to be explained. Tell
me about that interview with your father."

"Which interview?"

"The disgraceful, murderous one."

Pats reflected. "There were several."

"Oh, Patsy! Are you so bad as that?"

"As what?"

"But you did not mean to do him injury, did you?"

"_I_ do _him_ injury?" he inquired, in a mild surprise. "Why,
what are you driving at, Elinor?"

"I mean the quarrel in the arbor."

"And what happened?"

"You know very well."

"Indeed I do! But there were several quarrels. Which one do you mean?"

"I mean the one when you were violent--and murderous."

"But I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. I know all about it."

"If you know all about it, what do you want me to tell?"

"Tell about the worst quarrel of all."

"That must have been the last one."

"Well, tell me about that."

Pats took a long breath, then began: "The old gentleman was a hot
Catholic. There was no harm in that, you will think. And I am not such a
fool as to spoil a night like this by a religious discussion."

"Go on."

"Well, he insisted upon my becoming a Catholic priest. Now, for a young
man just out of college--and Harvard College at that--it was a good deal