“Why, I said nothing!” cried Evadne in astonishment.

Louis laughed.  “Have you never heard of eyes that speak and faces that tell tales?” he said.  “I will just whisper a word of warning before you play havoc with your web of destiny.  Don’t let a suspicion of your dislike cross the lady mother’s mind, for Uncle Horace is her beau-ideal of a man.  I agree with you.  I think he is a cad.”

CHAPTER XVI.

“An invitation to Professor Joliette’s,” and Isabelle tossed a gilt-edged card across the table to Marion; “Wednesday evening.  It’s not a very long invitation.  What dress will you wear?”

“But you are engaged, Marion,” said Evadne; “Wednesday evening, you know.”

“Yes,” said Marion with a sigh, “it is awkward.  I do wish they would choose some other night for prayer meeting.  Wednesday seems such a favorite with everybody.”

“What a little prig you are getting to be, Evadne!” said Isabelle with a sneer.  “Your only diversion seems to be prayer meeting and church.  You are as bad as Aunt Marthe.”

“Aunt Marthe a prig!  Oh, that is too funny!” and Evadne gave one of her low, sweet laughs.  “Besides, does keeping one’s engagements constitute a prig, Isabelle?  You wouldn’t think so if you were invited to the President’s reception.”

“The President’s reception!  What does get into the child!  I don’t see much analogy between the two cases.  No one considers prayer meeting a binding engagement, and I’m sure we go as often as we can.”

“Not binding!” echoed Evadne.  “So Christ is not of as much importance as the President of the United States!”

“You do have such a way of putting things, Evadne!” said Marion thoughtfully.  “I expect we had better refuse, Isabelle.”

“Refuse,—­nonsense!” said Isabelle sharply.  “You always meet the best people at the Joliettes’,—­besides, why should we run the risk of offending them?”

“Why should they run the risk of offending you, by choosing a night they know you cannot come?” asked Evadne.

“Ridiculous!  What do they care about our church concerns?  The Joliettes are foreigners.  People in polite society do not give religion such an unpleasant prominence as you delight in, Evadne.  For my part, I consider it very bad form.”

“Breakers ahead, Evadne,” said Louis with his cynical laugh.  “Good form is Isabelle’s fetich.  Woe betide the unlucky wight who dares to hold an opinion of his own.”

“But,” said Evadne, the old puzzled look coming into her eyes, “I wish I could understand.  Are Christians ashamed of the religion of Jesus?”

“That’s about the amount of it, little coz.  It is a sort of kedge anchor which they keep on board in case of danger.  For my part I think it is better to sail clear.  It is only an uncomfortable addition which spoils the trim of the ship.”

“Oh, Louis, don’t!” exclaimed Marion with a sigh.  “It is so hard to know what is right!  Sometimes I wish I were a nun, shut up in a convent, and then I should have nothing else to do.”