“And have you not found a sense of peace, of satisfaction and comfort, since you united with the true Church?” Lafelle went on. “Are you not at last at rest?”
“Quite so,” sighed the lady, though the sigh was scarcely one of unalloyed relief.
Lafelle turned to Carmen. “And our little friend here––can she still remain an alien, now that she has some knowledge of her indebtedness to the Church?”
Carmen looked blank. “My indebtedness to the Church!” she repeated. “Why––”
It was now Lafelle’s turn to sigh, as he directed himself again to Mrs. Hawley-Crowles. “She does not see, Madam, that it was by the ladder of Holy Church that she mounted to her present enviable social height.”
“But––what––what do you mean?” stammered the bewildered girl.
“May I not come and explain it to her?” said Lafelle. Then he suddenly thought of his last conversation with the Beaubien. But he shrugged his shoulders, and a defiant look sat upon his features.
Mrs. Hawley-Crowles dared not refuse the request. She knew she was now too deeply enmeshed for resistance, and that Lafelle’s control over her was complete––unless she dared to face social and financial ruin. And under that thought she paled and grew faint, for it raised the curtain upon chaos and black night.
“Would it be convenient for me to call to-morrow afternoon?” continued the churchman.