"They seem to be always ringing," she said to herself, as she lightly
touched the roses. "It must be a Saint's Day--where's Denzil? Ah, there
he is in the garden! I'll ask him."
Truth is, she was deceiving herself. She wanted to talk with Denzil about
all that had happened of late, and he seemed, somehow, to avoid her.
Perhaps he feared she had given her promise to Tarboe who had, as Denzil
knew, spent an hour with her the night before. As this came to Denzil's
brain, he felt a shiver go through him. Just then he heard Junia's
footsteps, and saw her coming towards him.
"Why are the bells ringing so much, Denzil? Is it a Saint's Day?" she
asked.
He took off his hat. "Yes, ma'm'selle, it is a Saint's Day," and he named
it. "There were lots of neighbours at early Mass, and some have gone to
the Church of St. Anne de Beaupre at Beaupre, them that's got sickness."
"Yes, Beaupre is as good as Lourdes, I'm sure. Why didn't you go,
Denzil?"
"Why should I go, ma'm'selle--I ain't sick--ah, bah!"
"I thought you were. You've been in low spirits ever since our election,
Denzil."
"Nothing strange in that, ma'm'selle. I've been thinking of him that's
gone."
"You mean Monsieur Barouche, eh?"
"Not of M'sieu' Barouche, but of the father to the man that beat M'sieu'
Barouche.
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