n't seriously affect the argument," said Mark. "You
collect I don't know how many thousands of pounds to put up a
magnificent church from which the Bishop of Silchester sees fit to turn
you out, but for the debt on which you are still personally responsible.
It's fantastic!"

"Mark Anthony," the priest said with a laugh, "you lack the legal mind.
The Bishop did not turn me out. The Bishop can perfectly well say I
turned myself out."

"It is all too subtle for me," said Mark. "But I'm not going to worry
you with any more arguments. You've had enough of them to last you for
ever. I do wish you'd let me stick to you personally and help you in any
way possible."

"No, Mark Anthony," the priest replied. "I've done my work at St.
Agnes', and you've done yours. Your business now is to take advantage of
what has happened and to get back to your books, which whatever you may
say have been more and more neglected lately. You'll find it of enormous
help to be a good theologian. I have never ceased to regret my own
shortcomings in that respect. Besides, I think you ought to spend a
certain amount of time with Ogilvie before you go to Glastonbury. There
is quite a lot of work to do if you look for it in a country parish
like--what's the name of the place? Wych. Oh, yes, quite a lot of work.
Don't bother your head about Anglican Orders and Roman Claims and the
Catholicity of the Church of England. Your business is to save souls,
your own included. Go back and read and get to know the people in
Ogilvie's parish. Anybody can tackle a district like St. Agnes'; anybody
that is who has the suitable personality. How many people can tackle an
English country parish? I hardly know one. I should like to have you
with me. I'm fond of you, and you're useful; but at your age to travel
round from town to town listening to my begging would be all wrong. I
might even go to America. I've had most cordial invitations from several
American bishops, and if I can't raise the money in England I shall
have to go there. If God has any more work for me to do I shall be
offered a cure some day somewhere. I want you to be one of my assistant
priests, and if you're going to be useful to me as an assistant priest,
you really must have some theology behind you. These bishops get more
and more difficult to deal with every year. Now, it's no good arguing.
My mind's made up. I won't take you with me."

So Mark went back to Wych-on-the-Wold and brooded upon the