I told him that I was very much obliged for the attention. If he had stopped there all would have been well, and we should have had a pleasant little chat. But I suppose it was his sense of duty which would not permit it.
“I trust,” said he, “that we shall see you at St. Joseph’s.”
I was compelled to explain that it was not probable.
“A Roman Catholic?” he asked, in a not unfriendly voice.
I shook my head, but nothing would discourage him.
“Not a dissenter!” he exclaimed, with a sudden hardening of his genial face.
I shook my head again.
“Ah, a little lax—a little remiss!” he said playfully, and with an expression of relief. “Professional men get into these ways. They have much to distract them. At least, you cling fast, no doubt, to the fundamental truths of Christianity?”
“I believe from the bottom of my heart,” said I, “that the Founder of it was the best and sweetest character of whom we have any record in the history of this planet.”
But instead of soothing him, my conciliatory answer seemed to be taken as a challenge. “I trust,” said he severely, “that your belief goes further than that. You, are surely prepared to admit that He was an incarnation of the God-head.”