"Certainly."
"But if you should suddenly acquire a million dollars, you would naturally feel very much elated about it. Is that not true?"
"Yes—but what then?"
"That is the way it is with converts to anything. They suddenly acquire what to them is very precious and, like the newly-made millionaire, they are fearful of anything that threatens their wealth. They become enthusiasts about what they have—and I must confess that some of them even become a bit of a nuisance. But it is a good sign. It is a sign of sincerity, and you cannot overlook sincerity. There is too little of it in the world."
"I am mighty glad now," said Saunders, "that you haven't got it."
"What? The sincerity?"
"Oh, Lord, no!—the bigotry. Anyhow, if I stay here, you won't have much trouble with me for, like a certain man I once read about, the church I don't go to is the Methodist."
"Then I will have to give you up," said Father Murray. "If the Methodist were the one you actually did go to, I might have half a chance to make you a convert; but since you do not go to any, I am afraid that my counsels would fall upon stony ground. But you will always be welcome to the rectory, even if you do not bother the church," he added.
"But surely, Father," said Saunders, "you are not going to stay here? Hasn't the Bishop made you his Vicar-General again? And doesn't he want you to go back to the Cathedral?"
"That is true," answered the priest, his face becoming grave. "But I have grown very fond of Sihasset, and the Bishop has kindly given me permission to remain in charge of the parish here."