"Do you love that monk?"
"Certainly—just as one loves all that is good and just. I know the generous actions of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr. You, yourself, only a few days ago, told me a very touching deed done by him."
"Do you constantly think of the monk?"
"Constantly, no. But this very evening I was saying to mother that I was astonished I thought so frequently of him."
"Hena, suppose our parents thought of marrying you, and that the young monk, instead of being a clergyman, was free, could become your husband and loved you—would you wed him?"
"What a crazy supposition!"
"Let us suppose all I have said—that he is not a monk and loves you; if our parents gave their consent to the marriage, would you accept that man for your husband?"
"Dear brother, you are putting questions to me—"
"You would wed him with joy," Hervé broke in with hollow voice, fixing upon his sister a jealous and enraged eye that escaped her, seeing the embroidery on which she was engaged helped her conceal the embarrassment that the singular interrogatory to which she was being subjected threw her into. Nevertheless, the girl's natural frankness regained the upper hand, and without raising her eyes to her brother, Hena answered:
"Why should I not consent to wed an honorable man, if our parents approved the marriage?"