"It is when they go together, first to the dingle, then to the street, that I like them best. That comes nearest to the way of solution," she said, with a smile as comprehending as it was sympathetic.
"The Priest must come to nature; the Faun, at least occasionally, to town. May not old Pan with his pipes be the brother of the Man with the heart of God?" she asked.
"I have given a great deal of time to living, Nance, and little enough to thinking, but I feel that you speak the truth."
An hour later Monsieur l'Abbé, dreaming of France with her sunny fields, her morning roads, and happy village streets, discovered a boy fishing by a merry little stream.
"Do you live here?" questioned Monsieur Picot, indicating the town near by.
"Yes," returned the boy, "I live when I am here," meaning the river and the hills, "but I stay in the town. I know it is natural to live in the fields.... Was it not queer that the good God should make that which is right so different from that which is natural?"
"But the good God did not, my son," replied the priest.
"Are you sure, sir? My master thinks He did."
"Your master is wrong, my lad.... Tell me, your face seems familiar to me," said the Abbé, "have I ever seen you before?"