"
Minnie now was quite silent and preoccupied, and occasionally she
glanced sadly at Tozer with her large, pathetic, child-like eyes. It
was a very piteous look, full of the most tender entreaty. Tozer
occasionally glanced at her, and then, like her, he sat silent,
involved in his own thoughts.
"And so," said Minnie at last, "you're not the priest himself?"
"The priest?"
"Yes."
"Well, no; I don't call myself a priest. I'm a minister of the
Gospel."
"Well, you're not a _real_ priest, then."
"All men of my calling are real priests--yes, priests and kings. I
yield to no man in the estimate which I set upon my high and holy
calling."
"Oh, but I mean a Roman Catholic priest," said Minnie.
"A Roman Catholic priest! Me! Why, what a question! Me! a Roman
Catholic! Why, in our parts folks call me the Protestant Champion."
"Oh, and so you're only a 'Protestant, after all," said Minnie, in a
disappointed tone.
"Only a Protestant!" repeated Tozer, severely--"_only_ a Protestant.
Why, ain't you one yourself?"
"Oh yes; but I hoped you were the other priest, you know. I did _so_
want to have a Roman Catholic priest this time."
Tozer was silent. It struck him that this young lady was in danger.
Her wish for a Roman Catholic priest boded no good. She had just come
from Rome. No doubt she had been tampered with. Some Jesuits had
caught her, and had tried to proselytize her. His soul swelled with
indignation at the thought.
"Oh dear!" said Minnie again.
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