As Father Ugo passed down stairs, he was met by Mrs. and Mr. Prying, who invited him to the parlor, and by a good deal of persuasion prevailed on him to remain there over night, rather than go to the hotel six miles off.  Even the bigoted Amanda was very anxious to have an argument with a real priest—­that mysterious sort of being whom she never saw, but heard so much about.

Father Ugo was a robust, brave-looking man, of unaffected manners, bordering on plainness, though highly educated, and accustomed in Europe, where he was chaplain to Lord C——­d, to the most aristocratic society.  Perhaps it was owing to his knowledge of the vanity of aristocratic airs that he affected such a plainness of manners, being thoroughly tired of the odd, unmeaning ceremonials of fashion.  It must be confessed, at any rate, that he entertained no small contempt for the mushroom aristocratic imitations that he witnessed in America; and this made him a little sarcastic, and therefore rather rude, in his association with what he called “the monkey aristocracy” of the new world.

Such being the sentiments of Father Ugo, the reader ought not to be surprised that his reluctance to enter into a theological discussion with Amanda was great, and his answers to that indefatigable she bore rather curt and ironical.  After a good deal of conversation about the weather, crops, the telegraph, railroads, thunder storms, electricity, and such other subjects as were suggested by the climate and state of the weather, Mr. Prying left the room, wondering where this priest got his knowledge, and how could he be one of that low, canting, Scripture-phrase class to which all ministers he ever knew belonged, and in which he thought the priest must have exceeded the ministers in degree as much as the Green Mountain exceeded the little knoll in front of his house.

“That’s a well-read, intelligent fellow,” said he to his wife.

“We allers heard they knowed nothing but ignorance and idolatry,” she carelessly remarked.

“I guess those who represented the Catholic priests as such are the most ignorant,” was the remark of Ephraim.

“Well, sir,” said Amanda, who was now alone with the priest in the parlor, “there are many admirable things in your religion; there are indeed.”

“I am glad you think so; but are not all its institutions admirable and perfect?” said the priest.

“I can’t concede that, by any means,” she replied, with a consciousness of her logical powers.  “For instance, there’s celibacy; why don’t you priests get married?  I think this very wrong; the Bible calls it the ‘doctrine of devils’ to encourage that institution.”

“I am astonished, if you think so, miss,” said the priest, “you have not got married yourself before this, for you appear to be of age.”

“O, that, perhaps, is my own choice,” she said, coughing with embarrassment.

“Well, it is my fixed and determined choice,” rejoined Father Ugo, “to lead a single, unmarried life, free from care and anxiety.”