"It is a beautiful, brisk morning," the host went on. "The tingle in the air makes a man feel that he can do impossible things."
Wynne looked up at him with a smile. He was won by the heartiness of the tone, by the bright glance of the eye, by some intangible personal charm which put him at once at his ease and made him feel that understanding and sympathy were here.
"And I have done the impossible," he said. "I have ventured to come to talk with you about the celibacy of the clergy."
He saw the face of the other change with a curious expression, and then melt into a smile.
"And what am I, a married clergyman, expected to say on such a topic?"
Maurice smiled at the absurdity of his own words, and then with sudden gravity broke out earnestly:—
"I am completely at sea. All things I have believed seem to be failing me. I don't even know what I believe."
"Will you pardon me," Strathmore asked, "if I ask why you consult me rather than your Superior?"
Maurice flushed and hesitated: yet he felt that nothing would do but absolute frankness.
"I will tell you!" he returned. "I was to be a priest. I went into the Clergy House supposing that that was settled. I see now that I really followed a friend. If he went, I couldn't be shut out. Now I have been among men, and"—