All the same the priest hated her in conjunction with her children. On the morning after her interview with her uncle, he went to receive her submission; for the marquis had informed him of all that had passed, and he felt the three women and the valuable Worth property already under his hard hand. He opened the gate with the air of a proprietor. He looked down the lovely alleys of the garden, and up at the latticed stories of the handsome house, with that solid satisfaction which is the reward of what is acquired by personal effort or wisdom. When he entered the door and was confronted by Thomas Worth, he was for the moment nonplussed. But he did not permit his confusion and disappointment to appear. He had not seen Thomas for a long time. He addressed him with suavity and regrets, and yet, “was sure he would be glad to hear that, in the present dangerous crisis, the Marquis de Gonzaga had remembered the blood-tie and offered his protection to a family so desolate.” Thomas Worth leaned upon the balusters, as if guarding the approach to the Senora’s apartments. He answered: “The protection of the marquis is unnecessary. Three ladies are too great a charge for one so aged. We will not impose it.” The face of the young man was calm and stern, but he spoke without visible temper, until the priest prepared to pass him. Then he stretched out his arm as a barrier. “Fray Ignatius, you have already passed beyond the threshold; permit me to remind you of Dr. Worth’s words on that subject.” “I put my duty before any man’s words.” “Sir, for my mother’s sake, I would not be disrespectful; but I assure you, also, that I will not permit any man, while I live, to disregard my father’s orders regarding his own household.” “I must see the Senora.” “That, I reply, is impossible.” “Presume not--dare not to interfere with a priest in the duty of his office. It is a mortal sin. The curse of the Church will rest upon you. “The curse of the Church will not trouble me. But to treat my father’s known wishes with contempt--that is an act of dishonor and disobedience which I will not be guilty of.” “Santa Maria! Suffer not my spirit to be moved by this wicked one. Out of my path, Satanas!” The last word was not one which Thomas Worth had expected. He flushed crimson at its application, and with a few muttered sentences, intelligible only to the priest, he took him firmly by the shoulder, led him outside the door, and closed and barred it. The expulsion was not accomplished without noisy opposition on the part of Fray Ignatius, and it pained Thomas deeply to hear, in the midst of the priest’s anathemas, the shrill cries of his mother’s distress and disapproval.