Upon this, the first evening of his return, the three sat together in the library of Stormpoint, Mark submitting, with that external grace which becomes the man placed upon a pedestal by worshipping woman, to the adoration of his mother and of Paula; the while secretly ungrateful and chafing because it was not possible to see Natalie before bedtime.
They had dined cosily together, and the wanderer had been treated as the prodigal of old, the substitute for fatted calf being the choicest viands procurable and the rarest vintage of the Stormpoint cellar; yet he had not enjoyed his dinner, being oppressed by vague forebodings; and it was irksome to feign a smiling interest where could be no interest until he had received an answer to his letter to Natalie. Naturally, he had inquired as to the welfare of all the Claghorns of the vicinity, and had expressed satisfaction at replies which indicated health and prosperity among his relatives.
"I would have asked them all to dinner," said Mrs. Joe, "but I knew that they would understand that we would be glad to have you to ourselves to-night. Leonard and Natalie are always considerate."
"Leonard was always a favorite of yours," observed Mark, who did not greatly relish this coupling of names, and who could hardly trust himself to discuss Natalie.
"A good young man," replied the lady. "He is almost one of us."
Mark looked quizzically at Paula, who blushed but said nothing. The blush was a relief to him. "He is a fine fellow," he said, heartily. "I have always believed in Leonard, though I don't admire his profession or his creed. But there are good men among theologians, and I'm sure he is one of them."
"But, my son," remonstrated Mrs. Joe, "that is not the way to talk of clergymen."
"Fie! mother. Would you deny that there are good men among the clergy?"
"Mark, you know I meant something very different. We only wish Leonard was in the Church."
"How can he be out of it, being a Christian?"