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Saviour's first. For the mass, you have some right to speak; it is your duty perhaps; but the confession, that is another thing; that is the will of every soul to do or not to do. What do you know of a woman's soul-well, perhaps, you know what they have told you; but madame's soul " "Madame has never been to confession to me," interjected M. Savry indignantly. Jean Jacques chuckled.
All Pere Savry ventured to say in reply was: "Upon your head be it, M. Jean Jacques. I have done my duty. I shall hope to see madame at mass next Sunday." Jean Jacques had chuckled over that episode, for he had conquered; he had shown M. Savry that he was master in his own household and outside it. That much his philosophy had done for him.
The Cure was the only person who had come to his mind when he became troubled to the point of actual mental agony. But the new curb, M. Savry, was not like the Old Cure, and, besides, was it not stepping between the woman and her confessional? Yet he felt that something ought to be done. It never occurred to him to speak to Jean Jacques. That would have seemed so brutal to the woman.
The new cure, M. Savry, was young; the Old Cure had lived to be eighty-five, bearing wherever he went a lamp of wisdom at which the people lighted their small souls. The New Cure could command their obedience, but he could not command their love and confidence until he had earned them.
Yet whatever Carmen's coquetry and her sport with fire had been, her own emotions had never been really involved till now. The new cure, M. Savry, would have said they were involved now because she never came to confession, and indeed, since the Old Cure died, she had seldom gone to mass.
Yet when, with accumulated reproof on his tongue, M. Savry did come to the Manor Cartier, he felt the inherent supremacy of beauty, not the less commanding because it had not the refinement of the duchess or the margravine.
The Cure was the only person who had come to his mind when he became troubled to the point of actual mental agony. But the new curb, M. Savry, was not like the Old Cure, and, besides, was it not stepping between the woman and her confessional? Yet he felt that something ought to be done. It never occurred to him to speak to Jean Jacques. That would have seemed so brutal to the woman.
"How often have I envied Hop Lung whin I see him burnin' his priceless joss sticks. How often have I seen him lyin' on top iv me week's washin' pullin' away at th' savry rooster brand an' dhreamin' he was th' Impror iv Chiny, while I've had to contint mesilf with a stogy that give me a headache! But that day is passed.
He had his New Cure now for sure. "Confession is for those who have sinned. Is it that you say one must go to confession, and in order to go to confession it is needful to sin?" M. Savry shivered with pious indignation.
Saviour's first. For the mass, you have some right to speak; it is your duty perhaps; but the confession, that is another thing; that is the will of every soul to do or not to do. What do you know of a woman's soul-well, perhaps, you know what they have told you; but madame's soul " "Madame has never been to confession to me," interjected M. Savry indignantly. Jean Jacques chuckled.
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