Margaret's heart gave a bound. She breathed an aspiration. Her time had come. She was sitting alone opposite them all, and they all looked at her as she leaned forward with a slight gesture that checked further speech.
"I am a Catholic, Mr. Southard," she said. "I was baptized this week."
The minister started up with an exclamation, the others stared in astonishment; but Mr. Granger took a step and placed himself at Margaret's side.
O generous heart! She did not look at him, but she began to tremble, as the snow-wreath trembles in the sun before it quite melts away.
"You cannot mean it!" Mr. Southard found voice to say.
O joy! She wasn't afraid of him now.
"I am quite in earnest," she replied.
He leaned against the table near him, too much excited to sit, too much overcome to stand unsupported.
"You mean that you are pleased with their ceremonies, that some of their doctrines are plausible, not that you accept them all, and pay allegiance to the pope of Rome. It cannot be!"
"I honor the pope as the head of the church, and I can listen to no teacher of religion whom he does not approve," was the reply.