"There's no reason why you should go," said Levis lightly. "I'd like to have you hear what I say, so that there may be no misunderstanding between any of us." He sat down in a plain wooden chair by the table and Amos sat down on a bench on the other side.
Grandfather opened his eyes, having been assured, in some fashion which he understood, of help from on high. He saw that his son-in-law was angry and he determined to quiet him if possible. Edward was not one who bore the dispensations of God easily.
"This has been a very pleasant—"
Levis had not come to talk about pleasant things.
"I don't like discussions and quarreling," said he. "I have not had a bitter word with you since the hateful scene you forced upon me at Mary's bedside, but now you have brought about the occasion for another scene.
"I promised Mary that the children should not be influenced against her religion, and that I'd let them go to meeting. I've kept my word partly because I usually keep promises, but more because I didn't believe that two children brought up in this century in my house would accept the teachings of your sect. I"—Levis raised a silencing hand. Grandfather smiled, then, instead of going on with the remark which he had tried to begin, he hid his lips—"I still don't believe it, even though Matthew came home yesterday thinking he was 'converted.'
"While I've kept my promise, you've broken yours. Yesterday, publicly, you called on two impressionable children, hypnotized by darkness and heavy air and too much vague preaching, to confess the most foolish beliefs. You did worse than that—you put them into a position where it seemed wicked not to confess them. I don't doubt that Matthew would give anything in the world to forget that he made such a conspicuous fool of himself. Fortunately Ellen was more frightened than impressed.
"What I have to say about the matter is this—Matthew is going to college in the fall and until then he will come no more to church. If after he has been at college and medical school, he chooses to believe as you do, you may have him."
"I'm not afraid for Matthew," said old Milhausen. "I was bidden to break my word. I had plain directions."
"You see nothing Jesuitical in that, I suppose? Well, neither am I afraid for Matthew. Now about Ellen—"