“Not for me,” said Clarence, “I’d like to do things. The active life suits me. But really that is one of the great things about your Church.”
“Our Church,” corrected Dora with a smile.
“I can’t say that yet,” said Clarence. “Anyhow, as I was saying, one of the great things about your Church is that it has something to suit the taste of everyone. There’s no end of variety in it. And say, Dora, where do you get all these flowers for your shrine?”
“Ben gets most of them. His wife helps, too. They began doing this long before they thought of becoming Catholics. Ben got me that pretty statue somewhere or other three months ago; and he began bringing flowers almost at once. He built the shrine, too. Whenever he came in up to a few days ago, he always lifted his hat. One day I found him kneeling before it. Since we began instructions, he kneels and makes the sign of the cross.”
“Why don’t you try to get Pete and his wife interested?”
“They never come to my tent; they don’t even know about the shrine. Ben has arranged all that. I believe, if they knew about it, that they would smash the statue in pieces—and as for me, I don’t know what they would do.”
“By George, if I ever can do a good turn for Ben,” exclaimed the boy enthusiastically, “I’ll do it with all my heart. He is so kind and good and gentle. In fact, he seems to be deeply religious.”
“That’s just what I think. His wife is just as good. She has given up fortune-telling, she told me, for good. She says she’d rather starve than do it again. And Ben is figuring now every day how much he has taken dishonestly. He says before he gets baptized he’s going to restore everything that isn’t honestly his.”
“Dora, you’ve done all this.”
“Oh, no, Clarence; I think it must be our Blessed Lady. She hasn’t forgotten a single flower that Ben has brought to her shrine. She’s going to pay him back with interest.”