“Upon my word,” replied Meredith, “you are endowing those piles of stone with considerable potency. What becomes of commerce and—”
“I mean, of course,” interrupted Louis, “that it is religion that makes us a happier country than others. I love so to look at the churches; the sight of one sometimes, when all is fair and quiet, brings the tears into my eyes.”
“Hey-dey! quite sentimental! You'd better be a parson, I think.”
“I hope I shall be a clergyman—I wish very much to be one—there is not such another happy life. I was just thinking, Meredith, when you spoke to me, of a verse we read yesterday morning, which quite expresses my feelings: ‘One thing have I desired of the Lord which I will seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.’ ”
Meredith looked with some surprise at Louis, and as they moved on he said carelessly, “I suppose somebody will have the gratification of beholding me in a long gown some day, holding forth for the edification of my devoted flock.”
“Are you going to be a clergyman?” asked Louis.
“Yes, I suppose I must. Don't you think I shall be a most useful character?”
“Oh! surely you wish it, do you not?”
“Well, I don't much mind,” replied Meredith, snatching a handful of leaves from the hedge near him; “I shall have a nice fat living, and it's a respectable kind of thing.”
Louis was horror-struck—he had not imagined such an idea—he almost gasped out, “Oh! Meredith, I can hardly understand you. Surely that is not your only wish about it: that cannot be a reason—not a right one.”