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Updated: June 11, 2025
There being no instinct at least not as yet developed of gallantry in Ringfield's composition, he did not seek to weakly deny her self-imputed charge. Had he not already seen a proof of the truth of it in her treatment of Henry Clairville? Was there not even now a curious malicious gleam in her dark eye, a frown upon her forehead, a kind of puckered and contemptuous smile upon her lips?
At the picnic Ringfield's ill-timed allusion to "sinners" had hurt him most particularly, and the more he thought of it the more he grew convinced that the minister could throw some light on the origin of the child and the manner in which it had come to be living at Hawthorne; for up to the present time almost complete ignorance prevailed.
Cabbage soup, the French Canadian staple; young Beauport ducks, dressed plentifully with onions; deep pies in earthern bowls containing jointed chickens and liver cut in shapes; apples and pears baked in the oven with wine and cream; good butter, better bread, and indifferent ice cream, crême d'office, made up one of the characteristic meals for which "Poussette's" was famous, and it need not detract from Ringfield's high mental capacities to state that having partaken of this typical and satisfying fare, he was compelled, when he could escape the importunities of his French friends, to walk away by himself along the muddy highroad for the benefit of his health.
"You shall be a better one in the future," exclaimed Ringfield, tenderly, and as at that moment Poussette himself appeared, to lend assistance, the interview was at an end. And now ensued a scene which a week earlier would have sorely tried Ringfield's patience, but which now sufficed to amuse him, so secure was he in Pauline's affection and so contented with her recent promises.
And Poussette jammed a couple of smouldering logs with his heel; they instantly knit together and sent out a big crackling shower of sparks that caused both men to retire their chairs farther from the hearth. A suspicion crossed Ringfield's mind. "Did you send your wife to nurse Henry Clairville or did she go of her own accord?" "Certainement my wife go herself. Dr. Renaud come for her.
Here Ringfield's ardour and his conscientious feelings for her future broke out in a long and impassioned speech in which he implored her to change her mind while there was time and to remember her warm promises to himself. He did not embrace her, and throughout his discourse, for such it might aptly be termed, he was more the saviour of souls than the lover.
To do him justice he had for some time, ever since Ringfield's advent in the village in fact, found himself wishing that he might sincerely reform and offer Pauline the honour of marriage, and with it some hopes of a respectable competence. "What nonsense are you saying?" he returned angrily. "Isn't money what we both require, what we have always required?
"You wish me to hear a confession, you, a minister of another religious body not in sympathy with us, not a son of the only true Church? I do not care to receive this confession, Monsieur." Ringfield's hand pressed heavily on the priest's arm and his agonized face came very close. Father Rielle's curiosity naturally ran high.
Poussette had not entered the kitchen. "Nor is it a mean phase of rural life, And solitude, that they do favour most, Most frequently call forth and best sustain These pure sensations." The following day Ringfield's curiosity naturally ran high; he was entirely in the dark as to the peculiar treatment he had received at the hands of Poussette, and it followed that one strong idea shut out others.
She neither forgot nor underrated, but she had deliberately and cruelly left one for the other, and deep in her heart she knew that something sinister, something shocking and desperate, might yet befall, and what she feared to hear was of Ringfield's suicide, for she fancied him capable of this final act of self-pity and despair.
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