“Who said I was, Mr. Vanclure?”
“I told you I got a hint from Clara—a hint from Clara, you understand?”
“I believe I do,” said Ernest thoughtfully. “It seems that Miss Clara has thrown out a hint that I would be a preacher?”
“Precisely, precisely.”
“And suppose I should be, Mr. Vanclure, how could it affect present relations?”
“Why, you see, a preacher is not the sort of man, the sort of man, that would suit my purposes. A preacher is no business man, Ernest—no business man. This thing of going over the country, with your ward-robe in a pair of saddle-bags—yes, in a pair of saddle-bags, and living from hand to mouth—well, I can’t see the necessity of it in this case, in this case. Although Clara gave me a hint, I didn’t much believe it—I didn’t much believe it—because, Ernest, there is no necessity for it, no earthly necessity for it. You will not be forced to go into that poor business—that poor business; but don’t misunderstand; I’m not opposed to the Church—it’s a very good thing in its place—a very good thing, and I pay my part to keep it going. But, as I said, a preacher is not the sort of man I bargained for—it was a lawyer I wanted, and I had my heart set on this matter, and I expected to put the business in your hands—in your hands.”
“Why are you opposed to preachers, Mr. Vanclure?”
“You misunderstand, Ernest, you misunderstand. I haven’t said I was opposed to them. I have nothing against them, nothing against them. They are useful men, in some respects, in some respects; but they are not business men, not business men. How could a preacher attend to my business? I don’t see why you should want to quit your profession, quit your profession, and be a preacher; you understand, don’t you?”
“I gather from your remarks, Mr. Vanclure, that if it is my intention to be a preacher, you would oppose the marriage of Miss Clara and myself—is that your meaning?”