That did not disconcert him. Then she said:—
'He that tholes, overcomes.'
He quite agreed with her. It was a naval simile, and it pleased him.
'But a white cloth and a stain never agree.'
He was struck as if by a blow. 'Mind you,' he said,'I am very candid. I have had my own faults and human weaknesses; but I never did anything immoral or dishonorable. What did she mean?' 'She meant,' I said, to reassure him, 'that you have kept her carefully out of the coast-guard station; that you have not allowed her to interfere with the men, or their wives, or their servants; that therefore you have put many a sixpence out of her pocket; and that she must have her revenge. Dismiss her jargon from your mind as soon as you can.' 'More easily said than done, Father,' he replied, and he then began to mutter: 'A white cloth and a stain never agree.' What does she mean?"
"The old story of Voltaire," I said, when my curate had finished. "Don't forget the children's prayers."
On Christmas eve he called at noonday, just as we were going out to the midday confessional. He had nothing new to tell. He was rather gloomy.
"You'll meet Miss Campion in the church," he said; "she'll tell you all."
"I don't think," I said, to cheer him—for where is the use of fretting in this queer world?—"there was so much need for Ormsby to go as far as Ceylon to find Buddha and the Nirvana. Look there."