"The same religion!" he said, with an energy that almost made Sarella jump. "The Catholic Church and heresy all one religion! Black and white the same color!"
Sarella was now convinced that he and his wife had fought on the subject. On such matters she was quite resolved there should be no fighting in her case; concerning expenditure it might be necessary to fight. But Sarella was an easy person who had no love for needless warfare, and she made up her mind at once.
"I understand, now you put it that way," she said amiably, "you're right again. Both can't be right, and the husband is the head of the wife."
Don Joaquin accepted this theory whole-heartedly, and nodded approvingly.
"How," he said, "can a Protestant mother bring up her Catholic son?"
Sarella laughed inwardly. So he had quite arranged the sex of his future family.
"But," she said with a remarkably swift riposte, "if Catholics should not marry Protestants, they have no business to make love to them. Have they?"
Her Catholic admirer looked a little silly, and she swore to herself that he was blushing.
"Because," she continued, entirely without blushing, "a Catholic gentleman made love to me once—"
"Perhaps," suggested Don Joaquin, recovering himself "he hoped you would become a Catholic, if you accepted him."