“Your father, uncle? But that is no reason for receiving a Jesuit.”
“I know that, but I was very ill, and he looked after me most devotedly all night long. He was perfect; no doubt he saved my life; those men all know a little of medicine.”
“Oh! he looked after you all night? But you said just now that he had only been gone a very short time.”
“That is quite true; I kept him to breakfast after all his kindness. He had it at a table by my bedside while I drank a cup of tea.”
“And he ate meat?”
My uncle looked vexed, as if I had said something very uncalled for, and then added:
“Don't joke, Gaston; such things are out of place at times. He has shown me more devotion than many a relation would have done, and I expect to have his convictions respected.”
This rather upset me, but I answered, nevertheless: “Very well, uncle; and what did you do after breakfast?”
“We played a game of bezique, and then he repeated his breviary while I read a little book which he happened to have in his pocket, and which was not by any means badly written.”
“A religious book, uncle?”