care that nothing should happen to them. She did not know what the
saints did in this country, or indeed, if there were any.

"Oh, Maree!" cried Abby, scandalised. "I guess I wouldn't talk like
that, if I was you. You--you, ain't a papist, are you,--a Catholic?"

Oh, no! Mere Jeanne was of the Reformed religion, and had brought
Marie up so. It was a misfortune, Madame the Countess always said; but
Marie preferred to be as Mere Jeanne had been. The Catholic girls in
the village said that Mere Jeanne had gone straight to the pit, but
that proved that they were ignorant entirely of the things of religion.
Why, Le Boss was a Catholic, he; and everybody knew that he had the
evil eye, and that it was not safe to come near him without making the
horns.

"For the land's sake!" cried Abby Rock, dropping her dish-cloth into
the sink, "what are you talking about, child?"

"But, the horns!" Marie answered innocently. "When a person has the
evil eye, you not make at him the horns, so way?" and she held out the
index and little finger of her right hand, bending the other fingers
down. "So!" she said; "when they so are held, the evil eye has no
power. What you do here to stop him?"

"We don't believe in any such a thing!" Abby replied, with, some
severity. "Why, Maree, them's all the same as heathen notions, like
witchcraft and such. We don't hold by none of those things in this
country at all, and I guess you'd better not talk about 'em."

Marie's eyes opened wide. "But," she said, "_c'est une chose_,--it is