"I hope for nothing more," said Griffith. "If you ever have a wish, give me the pleasure of gratifying it—that is all."
"I wish to retire to a convent," said she, quietly.
"And desert your daughter?"
"I would leave her behind, to remind you of days gone by."
By degrees they saw a little more of one another; they even dined together, now and then. But it brought them no nearer. There was no anger, with its loving reaction. They were friendly enough, but an icy barrier stood between them.
One person set himself quietly to sap this barrier. Father Francis was often at the Castle, and played the peace-maker very adroitly.
The line he took might be called the innocent Jesuitical. He saw that it would be useless to exhort these two persons to ignore the terrible things that happened, and to make it up as if it was only a squabble. What he did was to repeat to the husband every gracious word the wife let fall, and vice versa, and to suppress all either said that might tend to estrange them.
In short, he acted the part of Mr. Harmony in the play, and acted it to perfection.
Gutta cavat lapidem.
Though no perceptible effect followed his efforts, yet there is no doubt that he got rid of some of the bitterness. But the coldness remained.