“I suppose so. But Bridget said ‘Never again’—didn’t you hear?”
“Oh yes. But that was only because of the crowd.... Of course it may be all right—but I just wished she hadn’t said it, rather. It sounded as if they didn’t care much, somehow. I’m sure they do, but....”
“I’m sure they don’t,” Eddy said. “Bridget isn’t what you would call a Churchwoman, you see. Nor are Jane, or Arnold, or Billy. They see things differently, that’s all.”
“But—they’re not dissenters, are they?”
Eddy laughed. “No. That’s the last thing any of them are.”
Molly’s wide gaze became startled.
“Do you mean—they’re heathens? Oh, how dreadfully sad, Eddy. Can’t you ... can’t you help them somehow? Couldn’t you ask some clergyman you know to meet them?”
Eddy chuckled again. “I’m glad I’m engaged to you, Molly. You please me. But I’m afraid the clergyman would be no more likely to convert them than they him.”
Molly remembered something Daphne had once told her about Miss Dawn and Mrs. Le Moine and the prayer book. “It’s so dreadfully sad,” she repeated. There was a little silence. The revelation was working in Molly’s mind. She turned it over and over.
“Eddy.”