once; then he said, as dryly and abruptly as
before, "I suspect, then, you will have much to bear with when you know
them."

"What do you mean?" asked Reding.

"You will find them under-educated men, I suspect."

"What do _you_ know of them?" said Reding.

"I suspect it," answered Carlton.

"But what's that to the purpose?" asked Charles.

"It's a thing you should think of. An English clergyman is a gentleman;
you may have more to bear than you reckon for, when you find yourself
with men of rude minds and vulgar manners."

"My dear Carlton, a'n't you talking of what you know nothing at all
about?"

"Well, but you should think of it, you should contemplate it," said
Carlton; "I judge from their letters and speeches which one reads in the
papers."

Charles thought awhile; then he said, "Certainly, I don't like many
things which are done and said by Roman Catholics just now; but I don't
see how all this can be more than a trial and a cross; I don't see how
it affects the great question."

"No, except that you may find yourself a fish out of water," answered
Carlton; "you may find yourself in a position where you can act with no
one, where you will be quite thrown away."

"Well," said Charles, "as to the fact, I know nothing about it; it may
be as you say, but I don't think much of your proof. In all communities
the worst is on the outside. What offends me in Catholic public
proceedings need be no measure, nay, I believe cannot be a measure, of
the inward Catholic mind. I would not judge the Anglican Church by
Exeter Hall, nay, not by Episcopal Charges. We see the interior of our
own Church, the exterior of the Church of Rome. This is not a fair
comparison."

"But look at their books of devotion," insisted Carlton; "they can't
write English."

Reding smiled at Carlton, and slowly shook his head to and fro, while he
said, "They write English, I suppose, as classically as St. John writes
Greek."

Here again the conversation halted, and nothing was heard for a while
but the simmering of the kettle.

There was no good in disputing, as might be seen from the first; each
had his own view, and that was the beginning and the end of the matter.
Charles stood up. "Well, dearest Carlton," he said, "we must part; it
must be going on for eleven." He pulled out of his pocket a small
"Christian Year." "You have often seen me with this," he continued,
"accept it in memory of me. You will not see me, but here is a pled