ame to
the door, and upon seeing Ringfield started, but asked him to enter.

The barn contained some old boxes and rusty tools, a short ladder led
to a loft above full of dry hay, and there Miss Clairville explained
she had taken refuge when the hail first began.

"But Father Rielle----" said Ringfield looking vaguely around.

"Oh, you shall not meet with him here. He left me and said he would
try to go on to Clairville, get a fresh horse--Poussette's was badly
cut--and come back for me. You have not met him?"

"No, then you are alone?"

"Of course, and neither wet nor frightened, while you appear to be
both!" said she, gaily at first, but catching her breath as she
observed his stern, anxious gaze.

Ringfield, drawing a deep sigh, suddenly lost his self-control.

"Oh, how you torture me!" he cried, extending his arms as if to enfold
her, then dropping them as he recollected his condition.

"Torture you? You--Mr. Ringfield, so calm and self-contained, the
Reverend Mr. Ringfield of St. Ignace! I torture YOU! Why what have I
done to-day, then? Have I made the weather or caused the storm? Is it
MY snow or MY rain, or MY hail, and _ecoutez bien_--MY thunder and MY
lightning raging there?"

"No--no--but to run off like that, and with that poor priest--poor
fellow--I saw how it was with him! You are sure he is not here now?"
Ringfield cast an eye up at the loft.

"Certainly not! Would he let you talk like that about him? But listen
to this fearful storm! How can we think of anything else--and you--you
so wet--wet and tired! It seems a little calmer now; perhaps you had
better try again and walk on to Clairville. There you may fall in with
the _cure_ or Dr. Renaud and then come back for me."

"I will not leave you in this desolate place for a moment! Yet I feel
as if we were surrounded by people--why is it--I cannot understand why!
To whom were you talking while I was outside?"

"Ah, there, _tais-toi, mon ami_!"

Miss Clairville pushed him down on one of the boxes and tried to draw
off his stiff and dripping coat, but he restrained her; their hands
meeting sent him beside himself, and, seizing one, he pressed a warm,
lingering kiss upon it. Adept in these matters, Pauline kept up a gay
chatter, and as she drew her hand away seemed only uneasy--neither
fluttered nor deeply moved.

"I assure you," she exclaimed brightly, "I am quite safe here. I am
not in the least wet, my old coat has done me go