‘Well, I don’t agree with you. I think Mother Church has feathered her own nest pretty well, considering her claims to humility and poverty. In my idea, my own nest will have the prior claim on my indulgence!’
‘So you are really contemplating matrimony, Frederick,’ said Philip. ‘I wonder you can dare to enter a church under the circumstances, lest the walls and roof should fall in upon you.’
‘Perhaps I shall be married in a registrar’s office,’ responded Frederick lightly; but the jest was so ill-timed that neither of his hearers commented upon it.
‘With the fact of that misguided female down at Luton, you are about to commit a great sacrilege, my son, in taking the sacrament of matrimony on yourself!’ remarked Father Tasker.
‘Well, really, Father, I must say you and Philip are both rather hard on me! You have been reproaching me for my loose style of living for years past, and begging me to reform, and now, when you hear a rumour—merely a rumour, remember—that I’m about to forsake the devil and all his ways, and become a steady married man, like my good cousin here, you attack me as if I had just formed a fresh liaison instead. Why shouldn’t I marry like a good boy, as well as Philip, who is, I know, a pattern of propriety. Why shouldn’t I walk to mass every Sunday morning, with a little boy by one hand and a little girl by the other? It doesn’t seem as if I could please you anyway.’
‘You mistake both me and your cousin, my son,’ replied the priest. ‘It is not that we are not most anxious to see you turn over a new leaf and lead a pure life, but marriage is assuredly a condition of great temptation for a man situated as you are. It will bring cares and expenses with it, and your mind will be filled with the thought of providing for the future of your family. You have been brought up to no profession, for your sainted mother had no idea that you would be anything but a priest, and that your godfather’s fortune would go as he wished it should do, to our holy church. But since you elected otherwise, there is but one honest course for you to pursue, and that is, to remain single, and preserve your money intact for the purpose for which your godfather left it to you. Marriage will interfere with this, therefore marriage is not for you!’
At this juncture Frederick’s temper got the better of his judgment.
‘Then I’m d—d if the church shall have the money,’ he exclaimed loudly; ‘all your advice, and precepts, and exhortations to a purer life count for nothing; they are only made so you may hear yourselves talk, and plume yourselves with the idea of how much better men you are than myself. But this matter is in my own jurisdiction, thank goodness, and I shall do exactly as I choose about it. I shall marry, or remain single, as pleases me, but, whatever I may do, the church doesn’t get my money, so you may put that thought out of your heads at once. I’ll leave it to the Salvation Army, or the Home for Lost Dogs, first.’
He had thrown himself into a passion by this time, and he walked quickly up and down his little room in order to cool his temper. Philip Walcheren looked as if he expected the heavens to open and strike his cousin dead for the utterance of such blasphemy, and the priest rose and prepared to shake the dust of those apartments off his feet.
‘Mark my words,’ he said solemnly, as he turned to leave the room, ‘God will not be mocked, Frederick Walcheren. He knows all our hearts, and He will avenge himself. Good-morning.’