There was something so absurd in the old gentleman's appearance and
method of address, that Miss Ogilvy, who had a sense of humour, was
obliged to turn away to hide her mirth. Recovering, she answered:

"I think this is your little boy, Monsieur le Pasteur," and she
indicated the tall and handsome Godfrey, who stood gazing at his
future instructor open-mouthed. Whoever he had met in his visions, the
Pasteur Boiset was not one of them. Never, asleep or waking, had he
seen anyone in the least like him.

The clergyman peered at Godfrey, studying him from head to foot.

"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, "I understood he was quite, quite leetle,
not a big young man who will eat much and want many things. Well, he
will be /bon compagnon/ for Juliette, and Madame too, she like the big
better than the leetle. /Il est beau et il a l'air intelligent, n'est
ce pas, Madame?/" he added confidentially.

"/Bien beau et tres intelligent/," she replied, observing that Godfrey
was engaged in retrieving his overcoat which he had left in the
carriage. Then she explained that she had become friendly with this
young gentleman, and hoped that he would be allowed to visit her
whenever he wished. Also she gave her name and address.

"Oh! yes, Mademoiselle Ogilvee, the rich English lady who live in the
fine house. I have heard of her. /Mais voyons!/ Mademoiselle is not
Catholic, is she, for I promise to protect this lad from that red
wolf?"

"No, Monsieur, fear nothing. Whatever I am, I am not Catholic,"