“And you would like to be her director henceforth. I wish you joy of the office. But you must not hope through her to gain influence over Theresa St. Hubert and her children.”
“And they and their wealth must be lost to the Church? You are not so good a Christian as you once were, Cyprien,” said his brother.
“That is as may be. I do not think it is my Christian duty, or yours, to seek to obtain possession of Mr St. Hubert’s wealth, or any part of it, by any means, or for any purpose whatever.”
“I seek nothing for myself,” said his brother; “and we will discuss the subject no more.”
“There is just this to be said more,” said Mr St. Cyr, gravely and firmly: “Do not meddle with their affairs, my brother. No good can come of it, to you or to any one. You wish none of it for yourself? To wish for it for any purpose—yes, even to build churches, or to feed and clothe your orphans—is covetousness. To obtain possession of it would be dishonesty. Put it altogether from your thoughts.”
There was a silence of several minutes, and Mr St. Cyr rose to leave the room.
“Brother,” said Jerome, meekly, “I had hoped that after all these years of separation we might at least have lived in peace together—the last of our race as we are.”
“With all my heart, let it be peace. Only there must be no meddling with this matter, or with any matter in which my honour as a gentleman and a man of business is involved. That must be clearly understood.”
“I must be faithful with you,” said Jerome, still speaking softly: “I consider that you have been Culpably negligent with regard to these children. It is their souls for which I am anxious, not their wealth. It is for you to render an account of them—not me.”
“So be it! I will answer,” said Mr St. Cyr. After a moment he added, “Do not, my brother, let us become unfriendly over this matter. When Mr St. Hubert left his property to me, in trust for his daughter and her children, I did all that was permitted me to do to have these children placed under Christian influence and teaching. In fact, I would have confided them to the care of the ladies of the Sacred Heart, as you suggest, if I had been consulted. Mr Vane had other plans, and I had no right to interfere. I cannot say that I now regret that my plans for them failed. They are good and sweet children, frank and loving, and conscientious, with far more strength of character and truthfulness, than would have been developed in them had they been educated within convent walls. And they will need these qualities, poor children.”