“It would be easier,” said Mrs. Lorton, “if we were an employment agency.”
My father bowed.
“That I fully appreciate,” he said. “But I may at least assume, I trust, that you have considered the problem.”
“Oh, deeply,” said Mr. Lorton, “very deeply, in fact I ought to say, perhaps, profoundly.”
My father leaned back, folding his arms.
“Then may I enquire,” he asked, “with what result?”
Again Mr. Lorton glanced at his wife. But her slab-like face remained unstirred.
“Well, I can hardly say,” he replied, “that as yet—er—we have come to a definite conclusion. The moral qualities, you see, though extremely valuable——”
“For ultimate salvation,” said my father, “they are essential.”
“Oh, of course,” said Mr. Lorton, “of course. But in the meantime, you know, and taken by themselves——” He paused for a moment, and then his face brightened. “Have you ever thought,” he said, “of making your son a missionary?”