“Oh, no; I suppose I shall find some occupation that will keep me out of mischief.”
“That sounds a little cynical. Ah, well, I suppose it is a disappointment to me.”
“What’s a disappointment?”
“I’ve hoped and prayed so much lately that you would have a vocation....”
“A priest,” he interrupted quickly, “It’s no good, Mrs. Ross. I have thought of being one, but I’m always put off by the professional side of it. And there are ways of doing what a priest does without being one.”
“Of course, I can’t agree with you there,” she said.
“Well, apart from the sacraments, I mean. Lately I’ve seen something of the underworld, and I shall think of some way of being useful down there. Already I believe I’ve done a bit.”
They talked of the problems of the underworld and Michael was encouraged by what he fancied was a much greater breadth in her point of view nowadays to speak of things that formerly would have made her gray eyes harden in fastidious disapproval.
“I feel happier about you since this talk,” she said. “As long as you won’t be content to let your great gift of humanity be wasted, as long as you won’t be content to think that in marrying your Lily you have done with all your obligations.”
“Oh, no, I shan’t feel that. In fact, I shall be all the more anxious to justify myself.”