`Father Doyle -- of course he knows what they'll do with a fellow
after he's dead.'

`No!' she said, `Father Doyle never said a word about you
that wasn't good and kind. He says mother's a good Catholic,
and he takes an interest in you boys and me because of her.'

`He can persuade you women to do anything,' I said, not that I had
any grudge against poor old Father Doyle, who used to come riding
up the rough mountain track on his white horse, and tiring his old bones,
just `to look after his flock,' as he said -- and nice lambs
some of them were -- but I wanted to tease her and make her break off
with this fancy of hers.

`He never does, and couldn't persuade me, except for my good,' said she,
getting more and more roused, and her black eyes glowed again,
`and I'll tell you what I'll do to prove it. It's a sin,
but if it is I'll stand by it, and now I'll swear it (here she knelt down),
as Almighty God shall help me at the last day, if you and Jim
will promise me to start straight off up the country and take bush-work
till shearing comes on, and never to have any truck with cross chaps
and their ways, I'll turn Protestant. I'll go to church with you,
and keep to it till I die.'

Wasn't she a trump? I've known women that would give up a lot
for a man they were sweet on, and wives that would follow their husbands about
like spaniels, and women that would lie and deceive and all but rob and murder
for men they were fond of, and sometimes do nearly as much
to spite other women. But I don't think I ever knew a woman
that would give up her religion for any one before, and it's not