"Well," said he, openly displaying his admiration, "you gave us a Gregorian Grand Duchess to-night, but I, for one, will not quarrel with you for that. All the old time vivacity and charm were there, I assure you, and I do not find as much alteration in your style and appearance as I expected from hearing that you had joined the Methodists!"
Pauline glanced quickly from Crabbe to Ringfield; she foresaw an open and unseemly quarrel, and as one could never tell when Crabbe was sober, she rather feared than welcomed the bright audacity of his manner, the amiable ease with which he held the situation. In the presence of the guide Ringfield always lost his austere calm; his manners underwent deterioration and he stood now with a rigid gaucherie spoiling his fine presence, and a pitiful nervousness prompting him to utter and do the wrong thing.
"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Methodists all the same, you know," continued Crabbe, giving her arm a final and caressing pat as he released her, "but still I've seen better chairmen." Crabbe was now leaning lazily against the wall and occasionally moved his arm across Miss Clairville's back, as if he might at any moment fold it around her waist as he had done outside the barn.
"Your French needs polishing up a bit. How would a course at one of our theological colleges down here do for you? It's a pity you couldn't have six months even at Laval—but, of course, Sabrevois and the long procession of colporteurs is more in your line. But in spite of such small defects you remain a man of cheerful yesterdays, and we may presume—equally confident tomorrows, and therefore, to be envied."
The three stood comparatively alone, the people having passed out and Poussette and Enderby talking apart in a corner. Every vestige of healthy colour fled from the minister's face, and his hands clasped and unclasped with peculiar and unnatural tension. In his brain a prayer had formed. "My Dear God—" he kept saying to himself—"my Dear God—help me from myself! Protect me now lest I offend Thee, and be forever cast from Thy Holy Presence. Remove this temptation from me, or give me strength to meet it and endure, and so rise triumphant."
His lips moved and the word "God" made itself faintly heard. Pauline went closer to him and saw the set strain of his face and watched the tightening fingers.
"Oh, you are right—we torture you, he and I, with our foolish ways that you do not understand!"
"I understand well enough," he returned below his breath; "I understand better than you think. But come now, come away with me!"
"Come—where? I am living here, remember!"
"Come away—away!"