"I was always afraid," the successful suitor would doubtless exclaim, "that Murray would be the fortunate chap; he was so jolly clever—and good looking, too!"
"Of course," we may imagine the lady responding, "he was all right in that way—handsome, and well-bred, and all that sort of thing. But surely affection is the only thing one really values, dear, and you were always so faithful," etc., etc., etc.
Meanwhile, in the great Trappist monastery beyond the Irish Sea a Brother Patrick labored and prayed—if so be he might make some reparation, at least for past unfaithfulness to so bountiful a Lord.
* * * * * *
"You must have been working hard at your prayers, Ted," was Val's morning salutation to me when I went in to breakfast one day.
"What, am I late?" I asked, glancing at my watch.
"Oh, that's nothing unusual," was the unkind response, "But I was not thinking of this morning in particular. Don't you remember what I asked you to pray for?"
"To be sure I do. For a particularly good mistress for the school." (For we had just had the misfortune to lose one who was next door to perfection, and wanted to increase in perfection by entering a convent, and Val had been worrying himself to replace her before the holidays were over.)
"So you've heard of one? That's good!" I continued.
"Well, not exactly," said Val. "I've heard of a person who is on the lookout for a place of this kind, and reference seem quite correct, but——"