"I cannot recall the exact date, but it was several weeks ago. We do not really correspond, and his occasional notes are so impersonal that in replying I sometimes feel as if I were addressing an abstraction. At first he interested me extremely, but one cannot easily maintain his mystical elevation of spirit."
"I thought you were really fond of him."
"Knowing as you do that I have absolutely no faculty for growing fond of people, I am surprised you should have made the mistake. He enlisted my interest in some of his benevolent schemes, especially a 'sisterhood' for care of infirm indigents; but father has no sympathy with Vernon or his vocation, and, therefore, I have been less impressed."
"At one time you were extravagant in praise of his 'saintly, magnetic face.'"
"So I possibly am, or have been, about several fine pictures of handsome, bleeding flagellants and tormented martyrs, but I should prefer not to hang them permanently in my dining-room."
"Do you know anything of your cousin's early life, or of the reasons that induced him to join his 'Order'?"
"Nothing whatever, except that while at college he was ill, and one of father's sisters had him removed to her farmhouse, where he remained for months before he could discard crutches."
Mr. Herriott stopped and turned towards her. Holding his hat behind him, he leaned forward and scanned her closely.
"Vernon is a married man, and his wife is living."
"Is it possible! If any one else had told me, I should doubt it. I am sure father knows nothing of the wife. Where is she? Cherchez la femme is rarely a satire."