The first person whom the very reverend gentleman called up that afternoon was the young wife of Valentine Kalondai.
Milly rose from her place and stepped modestly but fearlessly forward. She felt quite secure, for she knew her whole catechism by heart. It came as easy to her as the Paternoster.
But great was her astonishment when the very reverend gentleman, instead of questioning her on the mystery of the Trinity or as to the necessity of communicating in both kinds, roughly addressed her as follows:
"Dost thou know, pious Christian lady! the commandment of God which forbids all the faithful daughters of his Church to make of the face which he of his grace has given to each one of them, another face after the manner of the heathen, by anointing it with all kinds of false and meretricious salves as the daughters of Midian were wont to do?"
Milly answered with a perfectly clear conscience:
"I know it."
"Then, if thou knowest it, wherefore doest thou the contrary?"
"My countenance is just as God has made it," replied Milly, with a tranquil heart.
"If what thou hast said be true, come wash thyself herein!"
The very reverend gentleman beckoned, and the sacristan placed on the marble font a large silver basin full of crystal clear water.