The eminent author saw the vision, too. He had stayed for curiosity’s sake; he remained to pray. Like Compton, the vision of lovely faith—and what is there out of heaven so lovely as the faith of a child?—quite overcame him. He gazed no more, but, lowering his eyes, prayed with a new devotion.
“I saw a little boy praying in church,” he said to his wife an hour later, “and I understood as I never understood before that saying of our Lord’s, ‘Unless you become as little children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.’ ”
Several minutes passed. A light touch brought Compton out of a virgin land of thought. Bobby, tranquil and with a subdued cheerfulness, was motioning him out.
“Watch!” whispered Bobby, and genuflected. “Now try it again. Fine!”
At the vestibule five minutes were spent, by which time Compton really knew how to make the sign of the cross.
“Bobby,” he said, as they got outside, “that’s my first visit to a Catholic church, and I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”
CHAPTER VII
THE END OF A DAY OF SURPRISES
“Well, here we are, young man,” announced Compton half an hour later and turned into a rather pretentious apartment building.
“It looks very fine from the outside,” commented Bobby.
“And I think you’ll like it inside, too,” returned Compton as they entered the elevator.