Geutruu came home with the tears in her eyes.
“Bad luck to the whole thing!” raged Mathis. “Geutruu, you dress the child properly, and take her to the church. We’ll see what the Curé does then.”
The wife did as he had said—dressed the child in the white frock, put on the satin shoes, and fastened the wreath into her hair. Then she went with Hubertienke to high mass, and when the procession started Hubertienke took her place with the other children of the “catechising.”
Scarcely however had the procession got out of the church, and reached the market-place, when the Curé entered the ranks of the “little brides,” took Hubertienke by the hand, and made the child take her place behind the file of school children who did not yet come to “Christian doctrine,” and were posted a long way in advance at the head of the procession, in their black or dark blue Sunday frocks.
“DRESSED THE CHILD IN THE WHITE FROCK.”
All this was clearly seen by Mathis Knoups, standing among the crowd of spectators. He rushed up, looking daggers, fetched his child out of the procession, and, grinding his teeth, made his way homewards with Hubertienke.
He could scarcely eat his dinner for the next three days.
When Hommels began touching on the occurrence in the evening, Mathis cried, his lips trembling:
“Fine religion that! As he can’t be revenged on me, he wreaks his spite on my child! If that’s our religion, I’d rather not have no more religion at all!”