"Is—she going—to marry—him?"
Father Honoré read her thought and wondered how best to answer. He was of the opinion that she would remember Aileen in her will. The girl had been for years so faithful and, in a way, Mrs. Champney cared for her. Humanly speaking, he dreaded, by his answer, to endanger the prospect of the assurance to Aileen of a sum that would place her beyond want and the need to work for any one's support but her own in the future. But as he could not know what answer might or might not affect Aileen's future, he decided to speak the whole truth—let come what might.
"I sincerely hope so," he replied.
"Do—you know?" with a slight emphasis on the "know."
"I know they love each other—have loved each other for many years."
"If she does—she—won't get anything from me—you tell her—so."
"That will make no difference to Aileen, Mrs. Champney. Love outweighs all else with her."
She continued to look at him unwaveringly.
"Love—fools—" she murmured.
But Father Honoré caught the words, and the priest's manhood asserted itself in the face of dissolution and this blasphemy.