M. Roussillon had been, in a way, Alice's teacher, though not
greatly inclined to abet Father Beret in his kindly efforts to
make a Catholic of the girl, and most treacherously disposed
toward the good priest in the matter of his well-meant attempts to
prevent her from reading and re-reading the aforesaid romances.
But for many weeks past Gaspard Roussillon had been absent from
home, looking after his trading schemes with the Indians; and Pere
Beret acting on the suggestion of the proverb about the absent cat
and the playing mouse, had formed an alliance offensive and
defensive with Madame Roussillon, in which it was strictly
stipulated that all novels and romances were to be forcibly taken
and securely hidden away from Mademoiselle Alice; which, to the
best of Madame Roussillon's ability, had accordingly been done.

Now, while the wind strengthened and the softly booming summer
shower came on apace, the heavy cloud lifting as it advanced and
showing under it the dark gray sheet of the rain, Pere Beret and
Alice sat under the clapboard roof behind the vines of the veranda
and discussed, what was generally uppermost in the priest's mind
upon such occasions, the good of Alice's immortal soul,--a subject
not absorbingly interesting to her at any time.

It was a standing grief to the good old priest, this strange
perversity of the girl in the matter of religious duty, as he saw
it. True she had a faithful guardian in Gaspard Roussillon; but,
much as he had done to aid the church's work in general, for he
was always vigorous and liberal, he could not be looked upon as a
very good Catholic; and of course his influence was not effective
in the right direction. But then Pere Beret saw no reason why, in