Then she looked down like a cunning, guilty thing, and murmured, "One of the things I esteem him for is he always speaks well of you. To be sure just now the poor soul thinks you are his best friend with me. But that is my fault: I as good as told him so: and it is true, after a fashion; for you kept me out of the convent that was his only real rival. Why, here he comes. Oh, father, now don't you go and tell him you side with Mr. Neville." At this crisis Griffith, who, to tell the truth, had received a signal from Kate, rushed at Father Francis, and fell upon his neck, and said with great rapidity, "Oh, Father Francis, 'tis to you I owe her--you and I are friends for life. So long as we have a house there is a bed in it for you, and whilst we have a table to sit down to, there's a plate at it for you, and a welcome come when you will." Having gabbled these words he winked at Kate, and fled swiftly. Father Francis was taken aback a little by this sudden burst of affection. First he stared--then he knitted his brows--then he pondered. Kate stole a look at him, and her eyes sought the ground. "That is the gentleman you arranged matters with last night?" said he, drily. "Yes," replied Kate, faintly. "Was this scene part of the business?" "Oh father!" "Why I ask, he did it so unnatural. Mr. Gaunt is a worthy, hospitable gentleman; he and I are very good friends; and really I never doubted that I should be welcome in his house--until this moment." "And can you doubt it now?" "Almost: his manner just now was so hollow, so forced: not a word of all that came from his heart, you know." "Then his heart is changed very lately." The priest shook his head. "Anything more like a puppet, and a parrot to boot, I never saw. 'Twas done so timely too; he ran in upon our discourse. Let me see your hand, mistress. Why, where is the string with which you pulled yonder machine in so pat upon the word?" "Spare me!" muttered Kate, faintly. "Then do you drop deceit and the silly cunning of your sex, and speak to me from your heart, or not at all." (Diapason.) At this Kate began to whimper. "Father," she said, "show me some mercy." Then, suddenly clasping her hands: "HAVE PITY ON HIM, AND ON ME." This time Nature herself seemed to speak, and the eloquent cry went clean through the priest's heart. "Ah!" said he; and his own voice trembled a little: "now you are as strong as your cunning was weak. Come; I see how it is with you; and I am human, and have been young, and a lover into the bargain, before I was a priest. There, dry thy eyes, child, and go to thy room: he thou couldst not trust shall bear the brunt for thee; this once." Then Kate bowed her fair head and kissed the horrid paw of him that had administered so severe but salutary a pat. She hurried away upstairs, right joyful at the unexpected turn things had taken.