es and
sharpers. I could tell you such stories of what I fell in with abroad.
Those priests are not to be trusted. Did you ever know a priest?"

"No," answered Charles.

"Did you ever see a Popish chapel?"

"No."

"Do you know anything of Catholic books, Catholic doctrine, Catholic
morality? I warrant it, not much."

Charles looked very uncomfortable.

"Then what makes you go to them?"

Charles did not know what to say.

"Silly boy," he went on, "you have not a word to say for yourself; it's
all idle fancy. You are going as a bird to the fowler."

Reding began to rouse himself; he felt he ought to say something; he
felt that silence would tell against him. "Dear sir," he answered,
"there's nothing but may be turned against one if a person is so minded.
Now, do think; had I known this or that priest, you would have said at
once, 'Ah, he came over you.' If I had been familiar with Catholic
chapels, 'I was allured by the singing or the incense.' What can I have
done better than keep myself to myself, go by my best reason, consult
the friends whom I happened to find around me, as I have done, and wait
in patience till I was sure of my convictions?"

"Ah, that's the way with you youngsters," said Mr. Malcolm; "you all
think you are so right; you do think so admirably that older heads are
worth nothing to the like of you. Well," he went on, putting on his
gloves, "I see I am not in the way to persuade you. Poor dear Charlie, I
grieve for you; what would your poor father have said, had he lived to
see it? Poor Reding, he has been spared this. But perhaps it would not
have happened. I know what the upshot will be; you will come back--come
back you will, to a dead certainty. We shall see you back, foolish boy,
after you have had your gallop over your ploughed field. Well, well;
better than running wild. You must have your hobby; it might have been a
worse; you might have run through your money. But perhaps you'll be
giving it away, as it is, to some artful priest. It's grievous,
grievous; your education thrown away, your prospects ruined, your poor
mother and sisters left to take care of themselves. And you don't say a
word to me." And he began musing. "A troublesome world: good-bye,
Charles; you are high and mighty now, and are in full sail: you may come
to your father's friend some day in a different temper. Good-bye."

There was no help for it; Charles's heart was full, but his head was
wearied and confused, and