“Now, Monsignor, I am going to be terribly frank; and if you disapprove of what I suggest, we will both forget that the matter was ever under discussion. To begin with, I heartily endorse your missionary efforts in this godless country of ours. Nothing but the strong arm of the Catholic Church, it seems to me, can check our headlong plunge into ruin. But, Monsignor, you do not always work where your labors are most needed. You may control political––”
“My dear lady,” interrupted the man, holding up a hand and shaking his head in gentle demurral, “the Catholic Church is not in politics.”
“But it is in society––or should be!” said the woman earnestly. “And if the Catholic Church is to be supreme in America it must work from the top down, as well as from the lower levels upward. At present our wealthiest, most influential social set is absolutely domineered by a Protestant––and under the influence of a Presbyterian minister at that! Why do you permit it?”
Monsignor Lafelle’s eyes twinkled, as he listened politely. But he only stroked the white hair that crowned his shapely head, and waited.
“Monsignor,” continued the now thoroughly heated Mrs. Hawley-Crowles, “why do not the women of your Church constitute our society leaders? Why do you not recognize the desirability of forcing your people into every avenue of human activity? And would you resent a suggestion from me as to how in one instance this might be accomplished?”
“Certainly not, Madam,” replied Monsignor, with an expression of wonder on his face. “Pray proceed.”
“You are laughing at me, I do believe!” she exclaimed, catching the glint in his gray eyes.
“Pardon me, dear lady, I really am deeply interested. Please go on.”
“Well, at any rate I have your promise to forget this conversation if you do not approve of it,” she said quizzically.