"But suppose He comes to us with His face so scarred that there is no beauty that we should desire Him?"
Paul frowned a little. "That's not exactly what I mean," he said. "There's no point in our making things ugly."
"No. But—oh, I hardly like to say it to you!—but don't you think, somehow, one rather forgets about all that, seeing Him?"
In silence they reached the bottom of her street, and stood a moment. "Edith," he exclaimed impulsively, "you're heaps better than I. Pray for me, darling, won't you?"
"Oh, Paul, of course. And you mustn't say that."
"I shall. It's true.... Edith, when shall I see you again?"
(6)
The days sped by. They made a curious kaleidoscope as each morning gave a new twist to life. Paul read most mornings; spent an afternoon and evening or two in town with Strether who lived in South Kensington; and mostly took his share in parochial gaieties and more serious business for the rest of the time. He did not find it in the least dull. He could still sit in a clothes' basket slung on a stout pole between two chairs, and dust four others precariously with the aid of a big stick, amid the tumultuous laughter of a Mothers' Meeting Tea. Or he decorated the Infants' Christmas Tree, distributed sweets at the Sunday School Treat, boxed with boys at the Lads' Brigade, conducted a prayer meeting at the Christian Endeavour, called for Madeline on Sunday mornings and took her in to supper at sundry parties. Except at the latter, he met Edith frequently and revelled in the understanding there was between them. Moreover there was hardly the suspicion of any rift between him and his father.
Yet, once or twice, both Paul and Mr. Kestern were aware that things were not wholly unchanged. And possibly the last night of the old year offers the best example.
The Vicar had taken the Mission Hall Watch Night Service, and his son had gone into the vestry to seek him when it was over. He had entered without knocking as he was used to do, and found his father facing a stained, unshaven, ragged tramp in the little wood and iron room, with its incandescent light, photographs of previous vicars, shelf of hymn and prayer books, and illuminated texts. He apologised, and made to go out.