Rose got up and said, in a fluttering voice, "May I present you, Father La Croix, to Mrs. Nimmo, and also her son?"
The priest bowed gracefully, and begged to assure madame and her son that their fame had already preceded them, and that he was deeply grateful to them for honoring his picnic with their presence.
"I suppose there are not many English people here to-day," said Mrs. Nimmo, smiling amiably, while Vesper contented himself with a silent bow.
Father La Croix gazed about the crowd, now greatly augmented. "As far as I can see, madame, you and your son are the only English that we have the pleasure of entertaining. You are now in the heart of the French district of Clare."
"And yet I hear a good deal of English spoken."
Father La Croix smiled. "We all understand it, and you see here a good many young people employed in the States, who are home for their holidays."
"And I suppose we are the only Protestants here," continued Mrs. Nimmo.
"The only ones,—you are also alone in the parish of Sleeping Water. If at any time a sense of isolation should prey upon madame and her son—"
He did not finish his sentence except by another smile of infinite amusement, and a slight withdrawal of his firm lips from his set of remarkably white teeth.
Rose was disturbed. Vesper noticed that the mention of the word Protestant at any time sent her into a transport of uneasiness. She was terrified lest a word might be said to wound his feelings or those of his mother.