“I think not,” laughed Carmen. “But Mrs. Hawley-Crowles––”
“Was it through him that she became a communicant?”
“Yes. Why?”
“And is he also working with Mr. J. Wilton Ames? He converted Mrs. Ames’s sister, the Dowager Duchess, in England. The young Duke is also going to join the faith, I learn. But––you?” He stopped suddenly and looked searchingly at her.
At that moment a maid entered, bearing a card. Close on her heels followed the subject of their conversation, Monsignor himself.
As he entered, Carmen rose hastily to greet him. Lafelle bent over her hand. Then, as he straightened up, his glance fell upon Father Waite. The latter bowed without speaking. For a moment the two men stood eying each other sharply. Then Lafelle looked from Father Waite to Carmen quizzically. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “I was not aware that you had a caller. Madam Beaubien, is she at home?”
“No,” said Carmen simply. “She went out for a ride.”
“Ah!” murmured Lafelle, looking significantly from the girl to Father Waite, while a smile curled his lips. “I see. I will intrude no further.” He bowed again, and turned toward the exit.
“Wait!” rang forth Carmen’s clear voice. She had caught the churchman’s insinuating glance and instantly read its meaning. “Monsignor Lafelle, you will remain!”