"Six o'clock already!" he exclaimed. "They will assuredly not arrive
to-day."

"Why despair?" said the cure. "Your servant has gone to meet them; we
might see their boat any moment."

"But, my father," returned Monsieur de Lamotte, "the long days are
already past. In another hour the mist will rise, and then they would
not venture on the river."

"Well, if that happens, we shall have to be patient; they will stay all
night at some little distance, and you will see them to-morrow morning."

"My brother is right," said the other priest. "Come, monsieur; do not be
anxious."

"You both speak with the indifference of persons to whom family troubles
are unknown."

"What!" said the cure, "do you really think that because our sacred
profession condemns us both to celibacy, we are therefore unable to
comprehend an affection such as yours, on which I myself pronounced the
hallowing benediction of the Church--if you remember--nearly fifteen
years ago?"

"Is it perhaps intentionally, my father, that you recall the date of my
marriage? I readily admit that the love of one's neighbour may enlighten
you as to another love to which you have yourself been a stranger. I
daresay it seems odd to you that a man of my age should be anxious about
so little, as though he were a love-sick youth; but for some time past I