of pain, for these words to a
conscience such as hers were as so many stabs. Pats frowned. Still
clasping the fingers that had slid among his own, and with a slight
upward movement of the chin, he took one step forward toward the
prelate. But before he could speak the Princess acted quickly, to avert
a scene. In a vivacious, off-hand manner, yet with a certain easy
authority, she said, smiling pleasantly in turn upon her three
listeners:

"You speak of a convent? Ah, your Grace forgets something! Religion is a
mighty thing. We all know that. But there is one thing mightier--and
here are two of its victims. 'T is the thing that makes the world go
round. You know what it is. Oh, yes, you know! And it has made
archbishops go round, too; even Popes--and many times! And when once it
gets you--well! _il s'en moque de la religion et de touts les
Saints_--for it has a heaven of its own. Moreover, we must not
forget, your Grace and I, that this unconventional gentleman--"

Here she turned a mirthful glance upon Pats and his rags, and he smiled
as his eyes met hers:

"That our unconventional gentleman has already tried to give his life
for this girl. Moreover, he will do it again, whenever necessary, and
she is not likely to forget it."

Indeed not, if truth were in the look that came to Elinor's eyes.

"Princess," said the Archbishop, "this is not a matter for argument. It
is a question to be decided by the lady's own conscience."

"But I have made no promise," said Elinor. "I told Father Burke it was
my intention to enter a convent. It was merely the expression of a
wish--not in the nature of a binding promise."

"But to me," said Pats, smiling pleasantly upon the Archbishop, "she
_did_ make a binding promise--a very definite promise of a
matrimonial nature. If she enters a convent--I go too."

Thereupon the Princess laughed,--a gentle, merry laugh, spontaneous and
involuntary. "A nunnery with a bridal chamber! _Fi, l'horreur_!
Imagine the effect on the other sisters!"

At this utterance the Archbishop closed his eyes in reprobation. Then,
with a paternal air he regarded Elinor. "Dear lady, I have no desire to
argue, or to persuade you against your wishes--or against the wishes of
your friends. Pardon me if I have appeared insistent. I only ask that
you will not forget that our Church is your Church--that in sorrow and
in trouble, and at all times, her arms are open to you."

Then addressing the Princess: "I am the