"A woman is hardest upon women in such cases as yours, Mam'selle!"
Jo was thankful that at last the priest had dropped the objectionable "daughter."
"She will be the first who will turn against you."
"And was it a woman who came to you, Father, with my—my trouble?"
Mantelle's face flushed and Jo shook her head sadly.
"I see it was not. So the first and second who have turned against me have been men. Good day, Father, and"—Mam'selle stopped at the door—"if you ever need help in giving that poor Tom Gavot his chance, I stand ready to do what I have always promised to do, and I do it for the sake of his mother."
Condemnation and contempt rang in Jo's voice. It was her last arrow and it sank home.
The priest was practical and having done his Christian duty he could afford to be human.
"It speaks well for your good sense, Mam'selle," he said; "that you do not utterly shut yourself away from your people." Then Mantelle paused, "Mam'selle!" he said.
"Yes, Father." Jo turned and lifted her deep eyes to his face.