times over; he had left the
Catholic communion for that reason, and had hoped for better things
from the young minister.

"Don't Methodists divorce?" said this nineteenth-century rural Henry
the Eighth.

Ringfield moved uneasily in his chair. "They may--they can--they
do--but as I have told you, the causes must be exceptional ones.
Bitter tragedy--abhorrent false conduct, you understand me?"

The other nodded. "My wife--nothing like that the matter with her.
All the contree, all the reever know Mme. Natalie Poussette--good
woman, sure. No--but see now, m'sieu, now I am talking, and I tell you
my trouble. I'm not so bad _garcon_, you know; kind of fond of drink
now and then--I 'pologize, 'pologize, m'sieu, for you see me a leetle
bit dhrunk. Now--understand. I'm by nature a most loving kind of man,
and I'm fond of leetle children. Yes, sir, bigosh, _excusez_ a leetle
bit of swear--but that is my nature, that is me, and I would like, sir,
some leetle babee of my own. I make quite a bit of monee, m'sieu, with
the 'otel and the mill, and a leetle bet and a leetle horses.
_Bien_--what you say? Very well. What must I do with this
monee--while I live, and if I die? 'Give it to the Church,' Father
Rielle, he say. 'No, sir,' I say!"

And Poussette jammed a couple of smouldering logs with his heel; they
instantly knit together and sent out a big crackling shower of sparks
that caused both men to retire their chairs farther from the hearth.

A suspicion crossed Ringfield's mind. "Did you send your wife to nurse
Henry Clairville or did she go of her own accord?"

"_Certainement_--my wife go herself. Dr. Renaud--come for her. She
will not take the 'pic'. She will take nothing. She will nevaire die,
that woman!"

The remark was saved from being distasteful to the listener by the fact
that it was given with a melancholy despairing gesture, which to a less
serious person than Ringfield might have been amusing. But his sense
of humour, originally meagre, was not developing at St. Ignace as fast
as it might, and he saw nothing humorous in this view of madame's
immunity from disease. Before he could frame a reply, Poussette went
on:--

"So you see, I like you, Mr. Ringfield, and I'm going to pay you good
monee, and I believe you--good Christian man, and I want you to help me
get a divorce. Mme. Poussette (you can say like this to the
Government)--Mme. Natalie Poussette, poor woman--she is so delicate, so
fo