"He! Who?"
"The priest, you know."
"The priest! Is he a Roman Catholic priest, Ethel darling?"
"Yes, dear."
"And he is going to save me this time, is he?"
"I hope so, dear."
"Oh, how perfectly lovely that is! and it was so kind and thoughtful in you! Now this is really quite nice, for you know I've longed so to be saved by a priest. These horrid men, you know, all go and propose the moment they save one's life; but a priest can't, you know—no, not if he saved one a thousand times over. Can he now, Ethel darling?"
"Oh no!" said Ethel, in a little surprise. "But stop, darling. You really must not say another word—no, not so much as a whisper—for we certainly will be heard; and don't notice what I do, or the priest either, for it's very, very important, dear. But you keep as still as a little mouse, and wait till we are all ready."
"Well, Ethel dear, I will; but it's awfully funny to see you here—and oh, such a funny figure as you are!"
"H-s-s-s-h!"