"You are indeed fortunate, Madame. And you have other daughters--Marguerite, Sophie, Therese, Agathe--I remember them well."
"What a memory you have, Monsieur le curé! Yes, five daughters, all married but this little Marie, and she will be going soon. Thus the young birds leave us, Monsieur, and begin to build nests of their own."
"But what a fine family, Madame! Five daughters and six sons."
"Pardon, Monsieur, seven in all. Little Jean, here, is the baby, the seventh."
"The seventh, Madame! That is lucky."
"Yes, Monsieur, the seventh son of a seventh. His father also was a seventh son, of a family of Chateau Richer."
"Madame, that is most extraordinary. It is truly propitious. The family Giroux, too, of Chateau--a well-known family in that parish, distinguished, even, of a most honourable history. But the younger sons, of course, must make their own way.
"Madame," continued Father Paradis, "this boy, Jean Baptiste, this seventh son of a seventh, was born, I am sure, to a notable career. Madame, I have visited the school, where I have heard him read in a marvellous way, while all the children listened with open mouth, and I said to myself, 'He should be a priest. I will go at once to obtain the consent of his good mother, for he shows all the marks of a true vocation to the ecclesiastical life. It is God who calls him.' Madame, you are happy in having such a son. I congratulate you, and I ask permission to send him to the college at Quebec and afterwards to the Seminary, that he may become a priest in the course of time, after ten years, perhaps."
For some moments Madame Giroux was unable to speak. Tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. Finally she said:
"This is a great honour, Monsieur le curé, for Jean, for me, for the whole family. How I wish that his father were alive to hear what you have said! I have prayed, Monsieur, to the Holy Mother, and I have asked this, but I have not dared to hope. Now I could sing, even in my old age, when my voice is gone. But do not fear, Monsieur Paradis, I will not. But truly, Monsieur, I could sing once, long ago. There was a time--but what am I saying? Ah, vain, foolish old woman, selfish too, to talk like that without regard to my poor Jean, who, perhaps, does not wish to become a priest. It demands a sacrifice to follow such a vocation. Jean, my son, do you really wish it? Are you content?"