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trying to get to the same conclusion,” he replied, “but perhaps we’re all going about it in different ways.”
    â€œThen why don’t we all get together and have one religion? Wouldn’t that be a lot simpler than having all these churches and all this bad feeling?” There was a slight blush in her cheeks and her eyes flashed. Her energy excited him, even though he would have preferred a less perilous subject.
    â€œThat would be nice,” he replied, “but if the churches all combined into one we wouldn’t need as many clergymen, and I might be out of work and have to return to England. It would be very sad for me to be separated from you.”
    She smiled sweetly, evading the attempt to change the subject to the two of them. “I’m sorry, Basil. I guess I shouldn’t be so serious. It’s just that at church today I was thinking of my brother, Bill. Religious animosity ruined his life, you know.”
    â€œDear me,” he said. “In what way?”
    â€œHe was seeing a girl from a community close to here—a lovely girl named Mary Kavanagh. They were very much in love but she was a Catholic. Nobody was happy about their being involved because most people around here don’t believe in mixed marriages. Mama was, of course, dead set against it and Mary’s family was too.
    â€œIt will be three years ago this summer that Mary told Bill she was going to have his baby. Her father was wild when he found out. She had to get married, he said, but she was not marrying any dirty black Protestant. Did you ever hear such talk? So they cast around to find her a husband and came up with a man twice her age, a lazy slob from over on Black Island with the IQ of a louse. It was planned for a week later.
    â€œPoor Mary was heartsick and Bill was beside himself. They decided to run away to St. John’s and try to find somebody to marry them. He talked my best friend’s brother, Winston, from next door, into taking his father’s motorboat, and together they went to get Mary. Those boats are so noisy you can hear them for miles—putt, putt, putt; you’ll hear lots of them this summer—so they decided to row the boat to Moreton’s Harbour so nobody would notice.
    â€œThey left just after dark, but the wind soon came up and the rowing took twice as long as it should have, and they got there just before dawn. Mary had been waiting for hours. They got her into the boat and off they went, in the bay to Lewisporte to get the train.
    â€œBy now it was almost daylight. Sure enough, somebody saw them as they were rowing out of Moreton’s Harbour. Three boats took after them. They brought Mary back and kept an eye on her until the wedding the next week. There was some fear that she might even take her own life, but that would mean taking her baby’s life, too, and she couldn’t do that. I’ve only been allowed to see my nephew once. He’s the spitting image of Bill. They would have made such a lovely family.”
    Her voice filled with emotion and she stopped. Basil reached to comfort her but she pulled away. “I’m sorry, Basil. I don’t know why I told you all that. Let’s talk about something else.”
    â€œNo, don’t apologize,” he said, reaching across and taking her hand. “What an unfortunate story. What happened to your brother?”
    â€œHe tried to see Mary’s father before they married her off to tell him he was willing to turn Catholic, but her father…why are you scowling like that?” she asked, pulling her hand away.
    â€œWas I? I’m sorry; I didn’t realize—”
    â€œWell, Mama did her share of frowning, too. There was no way of pleasing everybody. Poor Bill. He stayed in Halifax after he finished college. He’s a doctor there now. He vows he will never marry. We always hoped he would come back and work in the hospital but I don’t expect