"Just what I thought, Boy--utter folly!"

"Of course it didn't cure you, Father Paul. You didn't learn to forget,
did you? Oh, it was cruel to send you away when you loved her like
that! I didn't think it of Aunt Henrietta--I didn't indeed!"

"Oh, you mustn't blame mother, Boy. She meant it for the best, just as
your Uncle Peter now means it for the best for you and yours. She
thought I would forget."

"Was she very, very beautiful, Father Paul? But of course she was, if
_you_ loved her!"

"She was pretty, Boy--at least I thought so."

"Big or little?"

"Tall--very tall."

"I like tall, magnificent women. There's something majestic about them.
I hope the Princess Elodie"--and the Boy made a wry face--"will be
quite six foot tall. I could never love a woman small either in body or
mind. I am sure I should have liked your Isabella, Father Paul. Majestic
women of majestic minds for me, for there you have the royal stamp of
nature that makes some women born to the purple. Yes, I am sure I should
have liked Isabella. Tell me more."

Paul Verdayne smiled. He should hardly have considered Isabella Waring
in any degree "majestic"--but he did not say so.