"If He did, where is it?" "Where is it, your reverence? It is with Him, to be sure. He wouldn't be leaving it on my head and me walking about the parish--that would not be reasonable at all, I am thinking. He doesn't want me to be robbed." "There is no one in the parish who would rob you." "Maybe some one would come out of another parish, if I was walking about with a gold crown on my head. And such a crown as He put upon it!--I am sorry you did not see it, but your reverence was saying the holy Mass at the time." And she fell on her knees and clung to his cassock. "And you saw the crown, Biddy?" "I had it on my head, your reverence." "And you heard the saints singing?" "Yes, and I will tell you what they were singing," and she began crooning. "Something like that, your reverence. You don't believe me, but we have only our ears and our eyes to guide us." "I don't say I don't believe you, Biddy, but you may be deceived." "Sorra deceiving, your reverence, or I've been deceived all my life. And now, your reverence, if you have no more business with me I will go, for they are waiting in the chapel yard to hear me tell them about the crown that was put upon my head." "Well, Biddy, I want you to understand that I cannot have you interrupting the Mass. I cannot permit it. The visions may be true, or not true, but you must not interrupt the Mass. Do you hear me?" The acolyte had opened the door of the sacristy, she slipped through it, and the priest took off his cassock. As he did so, he noticed that the acolytes were anxious to get out; they were at the window watching, and when the priest looked out of the window he saw the people gathered about Biddy, and could see she had obtained an extraordinary hold on the popular imagination; no one noticed him when he came out of the sacristy; they were listening to Biddy, and he stood unnoticed amid the crowd for a few minutes. "She's out of her mind," he said. "She's as good as mad. What did she tell me--that Our Lord put a crown on her head." It was difficult to know what to do. News of her piety had reached Dublin. People had been down to Kilmore to see her and had given subscriptions, and he understood that Biddy had enabled him to furnish his church with varnished pews and holy pictures. A pious Catholic lady had sent him two fine statues of Our Lady and St. Joseph. St. Joseph was in a purple cloak and Our Lady wore a blue cloak, and there were gold stars upon it. He had placed these two statues on the two side altars. But there were many things he wanted for his church, and he could only get them through Biddy. It was, therefore, his interest to let her remain in Kilmore, only she could not be allowed to interrupt the Mass, and he felt that he must be allowed to pass in and out of his church without having to put up with extravagant salutations.