u have made the house so cold that I am fain to seek the 'Red Lion'
for a smile or a kindly word: and now, to please this fanatical priest,
you would turn away the best servants I have, and put useless, dirty
slatterns in their place, that happen to be Papists. You did not use to
be so uncharitable, nor so unreasonable. 'T is the priest's doing. He is
my secret, underhand enemy; I feel him undermining me, inch by inch, and
I can bear it no longer. I must make a stand somewhere, and I may as
well make it here; for Jenny is a good girl, and her folk live in the
village, and she helps them. Think better of it, dame, and let the poor
wench stay, though she does go to church behind your husband."

"Griffith," said Mrs. Gaunt, "I might retort and say that you are a
changed man; for to be sure you did never use to interfere between me
and my maids. Are you sure some mischief-making woman is not advising
_you_? But there, do not let us chafe one another, for you know we are
hot-tempered both of us. Well, leave it for the present, my dear;
prithee let me think it over till to-morrow, at all events, and try if I
can satisfy you."

The jealous husband saw through this proposal directly. He turned
purple. "That is to say, you must ask your priest first for leave to
show your husband one grain of respect and affection, and not make him
quite a cipher in his own house. No, Kate, no man who respects himself
will let another man come between himself and the wife of his bosom.
This business is between you and me; I will brook no interference in it;
and I tell you plainly, if you turn this poor lass off to please this
d----d priest, I'll turn the priest off to please her and her folk. They
are as good as he is, any way."

The bitter contempt with which he spoke of brother Leonard, and this
astounding threat, imported a new and dangerous element into the
discussion: it stung Mrs. Gaunt beyond bearing. She turned with flashing
eyes upon Griffith.

"As good as he is? The scum of my kitchen! You will make me hate the
mischief-making hussy. She shall pack out of the house to-morrow
morning."

"Then I say that priest shall never darken my doors again."

"Then I say they are my doors, not yours; and that holy man shall
brighten them whenever he will."

* * * * *

If to strike an adversary dumb is the tongue's triumph, Mrs. Gaunt was
victorious; for Griffith gasped, but did not reply.

They faced each ot