"I certainly do, Mam'selle."
"I do not understand your tongue."
"I'll wager a dollar to a doughnut that Donelle does."
"Umph! Well, then, Donelle, just you tell me what he means."
They were all sitting around the hot stove, a winter storm howling outside.
"I'm afraid I cannot very well, Mamsey. But I know what he means."
"Do your best, child. I hate to be kept guessing."
"Well, it is something like this:" Donelle looked at Law, getting guidance from his eyes, "some people, not as blessed as you, Mamsey, might not have forgiven all those years when no one knew! You were so big and silent and brave, you made them all look pretty small. And now when they do know, you somehow let them do the large, kind things that you make possible, and you stand aside, praising them."
"Nonsense!" Jo snapped. "Who's blowing my horn, I'd like to know?"
"Oh! Mamsey, it's your horn, but you let others think it isn't. Who was it that made Father Mantelle come out and compel his people to go overseas?"