Chapter IV

(i)

"1/TONSIGNOR RICHARD YOLLAND rang the -L*-*- bell at 71 Egerton Crescent, just two months later, and turned round to wait. It was a very hot cloudless day in June, about half-past four in the afternoon. As he said to himself cynically on his way there, he didn't want to go to tea with anybody, and he didn't want to go to anything with Lady Brasted. Yet he was combining both, in answer to an earnest little note from that lady, begging him to come and meet a young man of whom she had great hopes. Then the door opened and he went in.

The little hall was very Italian and very pious; and he looked as he had looked before at the Delia Robbia over the Elizabethan chest, and the chaste fleur-de-lis wall-paper, vaguely grateful that the Catholic religion had other sides than that which attracted Lady Brasted. He always had a faint sensation of spiritual stuffiness in this house. Then he had passed up the stairs, heard his name announced, gone forward, and, as he shook hands with his filmy ethereal hostess, perceived that Algy Banister, in a black tail-coat and grey trousers, was sitting on the edge of his chair, embarrassed by a cup of tea.

He had heard no news whatever of this young man since he had said good-bye to him at the door of Chris's cottage on the morning after the visit to Park-minster. I had had one letter of inquiry from him, at Cambridge, but Algy had not been near me again, and I had nothing to say. And now here he was.

" Dear Monsignor, how good of you! " murmured Lady Bras ted. "May I present Mr. Algy Banister... Monsignor Yolland."

Dick looked at her with twinkling eyes, then he laughed outright.

" There is no need," he said. " I know Mr. Banister."

During Lady Brasted's cooings and exclamations, the two shook hands. Dick guessed he had been only a second string to a Jesuit who had failed his hostess; and that no hint had been given to Algy as to whom he was to meet.

" We met down at... at — in Sussex," he said, suddenly confounded.

" Not at Crowston? " murmured Lady Brasted, busy at the tea-cups.

" No," said Dick brutally; and threw a wild glance at Algy.

Fortunately the other understood that he was to hold his tongue; and then presently they were off in small- talk.

Algy's sentiments were difficult to diagnose. He seemed bored, resentful, peevish, shy and, on the whole, pleased to see Dick. He tended to hold his chin in the air, and to talk in a head-voice; and Dick saw plainly enough that Lady Brasted had been at him. And then, with almost indecent haste she opened fire once more, f' I have been telling Mr. Banister that he really must come with me to Farm Street to hear Father Badminton. It is wonderful, wonderful."

Dick munched a small Queen-cake.

" Mr. Banister tells me he has never even been inside Farm Street. How fortunate that you already know him, Monsignor I He is up in town for a fortnight. You must take him everywhere, everywhere; and particularly Farm Street."

Dick took another Queen-cake.

" I have been telling him that I always call the Jesuits the Fifth Mark of the Church. Nothing but the Catholic Church could have produced such an Order."

Dick had heard this pious piece of humour more than once from Lady Brasted, and it had now lost its freshness. He loved the Jesuits, too; in fact, his own confessor was one; but he wondered whether the Jesuits particularly loved Lady Brasted.

" Now you will, won't you, Monsignor? "

Dick was beginning to see red, or at least a faint pink. He felt exactly as he would have felt at the sight of a precocious child fingering a delicate piece of mechanism. Here was the soul of this boy, as he knew very well, in an exceedingly fragile state, and as complicated as any psychological specimen could be. No priest in the world, who knew his business, would dare to treat it in this way, and here was this well-meaning woman twisting it about, poking her fingers into it, spinning the wheels, and trying to regulate and rearrange it without the faintest idea of what she was doing. Once or twice before he had been angry enough at being hauled into this room to administer remarks to budding proselytes, but this particular case was worse than all. He turned abruptly to Algy.

" Where are you staying? " he said.

" Uncle," said Algy.

" Up long? "

" A fortnight."

Lady Brasted paused tactfully in her clinking among the tea-things to let these precious remarks sink into the young man's mind; and then began again.

" You will take him, won't you, Monsignor? "

" I should think probably not," said Monsignor. " Mr. Banister's got his affairs, I should think. So have I."

There was an uncomfortable little pause. Then Dick overcame his annoyance and turned frankly to his hostess.

" I'm fearfully busy, you know," he said. " I simply haven't a minute "

Lady Brasted rustled reassuringly. It was part of her pose never to be disturbed,

" Oh! I know, I know," she said; and went off into a torrent of conversation about small ecclesiastical affairs. Dick played his part, and observed Algy, whose atmosphere darkened every instant.

It was plain enough to the priest that if anything on earth, or under it, could hinder this young man from becoming a Catholic, it would be Lady Brasted's methods. The very room was an obstacle to conversion. It was all in white and gold and blue, polished boards, drawn Venetian shutters, scented heavily with tuberoses. A great bowl of them, in iridescent glass, stood on a table between the windows, sending up its heavy immoral fragrance towards an ivory Pieta that hung on the wall. On a carved bracket above the mantelpiece stood a black Madonna, dripping with beads; and round the walls were hung a succession of Italian water-colours, secular in subject, and ecclesiastical by a kind of subtle, tactful suggestiveness. He wondered what on earth Lord Brasted made of it; till he reflected upon the small, middle-aged sort of room downstairs where he himself had once smoked a cigar. The husband, no doubt, regarded the wife's religion exactly as he did her frocks and jewels — part of the feminine atmosphere, which must be taken as a whole, and paid for. Dick always felt at a disadvantage here — as might a kind of gentlemanly milliner to whom Lord Brasted was polite. He knew perfectly well that, as a priest, he was regarded with contempt, as being not quite a real man. The little triangle of purple silk he wore now beneath his collar became very nearly for him a badge of shame when Lord Brasted, a month before, had asked him, in the presence of other people, what it denoted. Dick resented all this unspeakably. He had a violent desire, upon which he had mused with pleasure, to take this virile nobleman by the scruff of the neck and cram him — say — into a Carthusian cell for a month, to let him see for himself whether the Catholic religion were no more than an elegant accomplishment.

And here was Lady Brasted, spiritually trickling on about priests and marble altars and sermons and architecture....

It was a full half-hour before he could get away. He had determined not to move before Algy; and until the young man stood up suddenly, he sat and endured it and was polite.

He let Algy get out of the room, and then instantly turned to Lady Brasted.

" I must be going, too," he said...." Yes, he is a delightful boy."

" I am so glad you could come," cried Lady Brasted. " You know I think it so important.... Of course, all souls are equal, and all that.... I think that so true; but, you know, dear Algy is the eldest son now; and that is so important, so full of responsibility...." ' Yes, exactly," interrupted Dick. " Good-bye, Lady Brasted."

And he turned, and almost ran from the room.

Lady Brasted sat still a moment, smiling sweetly to herself. Then she gave a little murmur, and formulated, almost in words, the impression that Dick's visit had helped to emphasise.

What a pity it is that priests are so unperceptive." N 177

Then she looked at the clock, and decided that it was time to say her rosary. She had at least tried to be helpful.

(n)

Dick, bursting out of the front door as if discharged from a spring, saw a figure in a black coat and grey trousers rapidly making off round the curve of the Crescent. He saw instantly that the poor boy was simply trying to get away. But he had no mercy; he ran, and before Algy crossed the road, called him so loudly that the other really could do nothing but turn round.

Dick was a trifle cross. A small boy had shouted derisive encouragement at the sight of a stout clergyman, running, with a purple necktie, and a fox-terrier had barked at him so suddenly from behind some area bars that he had shied like a horse: and a prickly perspiration had burst out all over him with the shock. So his first remark was inconsiderate,

" That beast! " he said. " I can't bear her. I wanted to tell you I was sorry,"

Algy looked so politely astonished that he perceived his remark had been a little unpriestly, if not actually unchristian,

" No — she's a good sort, really. But she's so infernally meddling."

" She's very zealous, isn't she," said Algy, smiling sarcastically with his nose in the air.

" That's just it — all these converts are. Look here, walk with me as far as my house. I want to talk to you. I swear I won't ask you to come to Farm Street."

Algy smiled with one side of his mouth.

" I never want to hear another word about the Catholic Church as long as I live," he observed presently,

" My dear fellow, I know exactly what you mean," said Dick comfortably. " I always want to do outrageous things myself after seeing that woman. When she talks about religion she's intolerable; and when she doesn't she's... she's insupportable.... (Take care of that cab.)"

They dived down a side-street where they could talk more freely, and began again.

" Why didn't you want me to say where we had met before? " asked Algy.

Dick hesitated a moment; but after all it was public property.

" Well, to be plain with you, Chris and Lady Brasted had an affair once — ages ago: they were engaged, you know."

•" What? "

" Yes; indeed they were. Then she threw him over."

" Why? "

" Oh — you know — well — Chris was rather a bad hat at one time; and it came out."

Algy pondered this in silence.

" You didn't know? "

Algy shook his head.

" What an ass she must be," he said.

" Yes, certainly; but a good ass, you know."

" But — but that's so ghastly about Catholics, you know," burst out Algy explosively. " Either they're like that woman — or else "

" Yes? "

" Or else those frightful Carthusians."

Dick took his arm firmly.

" My dear man, I'm glad you've said that. Now I take back my promise. I'm going to have an explanation,"

" Explanation? What about? "

" Look here," said Dick firmly, "I'm going to insult you. You mustn't hit me, you know, suadente diabolo — that's excommunication."

" What on earth do you mean? "

" Oh! well, never mind. Now then, are you ready? "

" Well? " (Algy's voice sounded rather breathless.)

" Do you know I'm pretty sure you're in bad faith — insincere — there! "

Algy's mouth opened.

" No," continued Dick. " Just hear me out.... I want to know what made you turn round all of a sudden at Parkminster."

A sort of spasm of indignation shook Algy; but Dick gave him no chance.

" Listen," he said. " I'm not at all clever— I know that well enough — but there are one or two things I have learnt in my life, and one of them is that there's nothing commoner than for people to try to kill their own conscience. Now if you can tell me honestly that you weren't trying to do that as we came out from Parkminster, I'll beg your pardon humbly and sincerely. I always take people's word. It's the only way. No... please wait till we reach the next turning."

He released Algy's arm as he spoke; and together in silence they passed down the broad pavement. It was one of those West End streets that consist chiefly of mews and cobbled interruptions to the traveller's footsteps, and at this hour all was peace. A cat or two sat in the westering sunlight here and there, but there was no human being in sight, except where, straight in front, passed and repassed in golden dust the carriages and motors on their way back from the park.

Once Algy began a sentence.

" Please " said Dick; and there was silence again.

At about five paces from the corner Dick spoke once more, halting a moment.

" Look here," he said, " I want to say this, too. I'm not going to argue about the Contemplative Life. I know nothing whatever about it. But I take it that

I both you and I know quite enough about it not to argue. Of course, if you choose to hide yourself behind the man in the street, and say that nobody's got any business to shut themselves up, and all the,8, rest of that sort of cant — well, I'm silenced. Do you see? "

He moved on again; and the two passed out from the lane into the thoroughfare.

Dick said nothing, nor did Algy, and in silence they passed up the pavement, threading their way, now separated, now together. Dick was very strangely moved, he told me afterwards. When he had run after Algy ten minutes ago he had had not the slightest intention of reopening this old subject; and now, in spite of the extraordinary incongruousness of talking to a well-dressed young man about his conscience in a walk through London streets, he had found himself plunged into this oddly intimate conversation. He had issued such a challenge as needs usually the most delicately appropriate circumstances,. ». They crossed another street, turned again to the right, and passed along, Algy following, it seemed, by a merely mechanical movement of his legs. Dick was in a flurry of indecision, though he showed no signs of it. That is one of the few advantages in being really stout. They were coming very near his lodgings now, and Algy had not spoken. Once or twice the question rose again to the priest's lips, and each time it expired in silence. Then, for the last time, they turned a corner, passed along an empty pavement, and halted before three steps that led up between railings to a house-door.

Dick stopped and faced the other. He noticed that his face was remarkably obstinate and yet that he seemed distressed.

" I live here," he said. " Would you care to come in for five minutes? "

Dick's old servant, Betty, who kept house for him, poked her head round the corner of the stairs ten seconds later, and observed her master, followed by a young man, come into the hall and go upstairs without speaking. She was very old now, and panted a good deal in this weather; so she thought she would wait to see if a bell rang for tea. Perhaps Master Dick had had tea. But she went downstairs again and put the kettle on, to make certain.

Time went on, and six o'clock struck; and at that her resolution steadied itself; she lifted the kettle off, and started upstairs. When she reached the first floor she hesitated, listening with her old head on one side for nothing in particular. But there was no sound; and she tapped. Then she tapped again. Then she opened the door gently and looked in.

Her master was standing on the hearthrug with his hands behind him. The young gentleman was standing by the window looking out. Both turned at the sound, and looked at her in a curiously expectant way.

" Tea, Master Dick? " she said.

He shook his head; and she went out again.

(m)

Dick let Algy out that evening a little after seven o'clock. Then he went back to his room, sat down in his easy chair, and remained perfectly still.

After a quarter of an hour he got up, opened his engagement-book, and wrote down on the Tuesdays and Fridays for the following fortnight the entry "A. B. 6-7." Then he went to his shelves and selected three or four books which he placed on the table. He sat down, turning the pages of these; and at last made them into a parcel, tied them up, and addressed them to A. Banister, Esq., at an address in Prince's Gate.

Then again he sat still for a long time, twisting a paper-knife in his fingers.

Then he suddenly seized notepaper from in front and wrote me the following letter, which I copy from as I write.

" MY DEAR FATHER,

" I have seen Algy Banister again, and he gives me leave to tell you everything. I met him by an extraordinary chance this afternoon at the invitation of Annie Brasted — of all people in the world! She had caught him somehow, and sent for me to talk to him — you know her way.

;' Well, it has all turned out in a most astonishing manner; and I may as well tell you at once that it has ended by his promising to come to me for instructions during this next fortnight while he is in town. And now for his history.

" My dear man, he's been through, literally, a hell of a time. That exclamation of his at coming out from Parkminster was simple Bad Faith. By an extraordinary stroke of luck, which I can't explain at all except by Divine Providence, I happened to spot that; and, by still more extraordinary luck, happened to say so — outright — in Prince's Mews. I gave him fifty yards to answer in — to make up his mind whether he was going to lie or not. He held his tongue — he said nothing at all till we reached my house. Then I asked him if he was coming in. My dear man, he had about three seconds' violent conflict. Then he came in and told me the truth from beginning to end.

"Well — apparently he's been a Catholic at heart since Christmas. But he's simply funked it — I don't blame him. He'll have a frightful time of it at home, I expect. The Parkminster business gave him his first real dig.... Of course, he knows nothing whatever really about the Church, except that it's the Church — la foi du charbonnier. — And the next question is the Vocation.

" Now I know nothing about Vocations. My own gives me enough to do. But I know this much, that it's simple madness for him to attempt Parkminster. They wouldn't look at him, of course. Besides, he can't possibly know his own mind — and, to tell the truth, he's humble enough to see that.

" No — he's going to tell his people when he goes home at the end of next week; and we're going to make arrangements for his reception after that. And as regards all future matters that's going to be left for the present.

" Well — I thought you'd like to know this. Pray for us. He'll want it; and I always do, as you know.

" Ever yours,

" R. YOLLAND."

" P.S. — I'm just going to send a line to Chris. Annie Bras ted, of course, will think that she's more of a ministering angel than ever."

Of course this letter took me completely by surprise; and, of course equally, after five minutes I was telling myself that I had known it all along. As a matter of fact it was, of course, the only possible explanation. Algy had kept away with extraordinary care; and I ought to have understood why; but, like a blind idiot, I had really thought his ferocity after Park-minster to be genuine conventionality.

I sat down and wrote him a long letter. Then I tore it all up, and wrote him a short one.

After a week I received this answer: —

" DEAR FATHER BENSON,

" Thanks very much for your congratulations. I haven't told my people yet, but I'm going to, at the end of the week. I shall hope to be received in August or September.

" Now I want to tell you this; and I hope you won't be disappointed. It is that I feel pretty sure now that I haven't any sort of Vocation for Religion. I've been talking a great deal to Monsignor Yolland, and I really" do think that my duty is to stop at home. I don't expect I shall enjoy it particularly; but I can always go round the world or something. Besides, really I'm rather frightened of Parkminster. It's awful, you know. Of course, it's very splendid and all that; but I'm sure it's not for me. I really could not stand it. I'm not big enough. And my people would be perfectly wild. It'll be bad enough my becoming a Catholic — but this would finish them altogether. I am sure I must just stop at home; and I expect you'll agree with me.

" Thanks so much for everything you've done for me. I'm using the ' Penny Catechism ' you gave me at Cambridge*

" I wonder if you'd come down to Crowston for a day or two later on, if my people can stand it. I don't mean yet — but next winter, perhaps, when they've had time to settle down. I wish you would. And I want Mr. Dell to come too.

" I must stop.

" Ever yours sincerely,

" ALGERNON BANISTER."

I put the letter down; and I said three words — " Poor dear man! "