“But who are they? I thought every one respected him ever so!”
“Respect is akin to fear,” said Henry.
On that dictum, the launch took a swift turn to the right, and dashed towards a jetty which bore on a board above it the words, “Château Léman. Defense.”
“A private jetty,” said Henry.
“Yes. The village jetty is beyond. This is my uncle's. That path only leads up to the Château.”
They disembarked, and climbed up a steep path which led through a wrought iron gate into a walled garden that ran down to the lake's edge. Henry, who was romantic, said, “How very delightful. How old is the Château?”
“Chi sa? Real old, I can tell you. Ask Uncle Silvio. He's great on history. He's for ever writing historical books. History and heresy—Dio mio! That is why they turned him out of the Church, you know.”
“So I heard.... Are you a Catholic, Miss Longfellow?”
She gave a little shrug.
“I was brought up Catholic. Women believe what they are taught, as a rule, don't they?”