"You mean with a scoffer," he said a little bitterly.
"I hope you are not a scoffer. I cannot judge."
"And you decline to find out. Suppose I tell you in all honesty that I want to know the reasons for the faith that is in you. That I want to know them, so that I may try honestly to adopt them, if I find it possible—I don't say easy, Paula, I say possible. Suppose I assure you of this, as I do, will you aid me to be what you think I ought to be?"
"Mark," she answered, "I am not competent. Such a one as you should not come to such as I."
"Surely you have a reason for your belief! Is it not possible to put it into words?"
"Oh, Mark!" She turned and looked upon him; her eyes were brimming with tears; she placed her hand upon his arm. "I can help you; I will help you. I can direct you to one who can solve your doubts, who can make the truth so plain that you must see——"
"And this One is?' he asked reverently.
"Father Cameril."
He burst into a loud laugh which shocked and grieved her. She left him and went toward the house; he remained gazing at the tomb.
And there, if he had really contemplated seeking Paula's love, he buried the intention with Old Eliphalet. "If your eternal welfare is to your wife a matter to be handed over to her priest, your temporal felicity will hardly be of moment to her," he thought, as he looked at the smoke of his cigar hanging blue in the summer air.