“A very sensible idea! And award medals to those who attain the highest flights of silence.”
34“The very thought is restful,” said Pats. “And would you mind if I offered Solomon a professorship?”
“Not at all! It would look rather well in the catalogue, ‘Solomon Boyd, Instructor in Moral Philosophy and Deportment.’”
With a glance at the mirthless face of the reverend gentleman beside her, she added, “And on the dome of the college shall be a colossal statue of Father Burke, in solid gold. He has not uttered a word in half an hour.”
The priest answered pleasantly, but the tone of the conversation had given him little pleasure. Folly was in the air, and Elinor Marshall, to his surprise, seemed in harmony with it. Heretofore he had known her as a thoughtful, serious-minded woman, with a leaning to melancholy; and this unexpected and evidently enjoyable flight–or plunge–into pure nonsense, caused him a distinct uneasiness. The girl was brightening up, even becoming merry; a state of mind that never leads to a nunnery.
In this conversation, which ran on with rare intervals of seriousness until the meal was ended, Father Burke took no part. And when the younger people had gone below for their interview with Solomon, he decided, after long reflection, 35that considering the gravity of the case his obvious duty was to drop a word in the lady’s ear concerning this new acquaintance. The rest of the Boyds–the two sisters–were good Catholics, and from them there was nothing to fear. But if he, Father Burke, could counteract the influence of this interesting heretic, it would be a pious work. He must find his opportunity for an earnest conversation, and before she landed.
The more he meditated, the more anxious he became. But Fate, the practical joker,–the fickle, the ruthless, the forever mocking,–was only waiting to lay his enemy at his feet.
