All his earlier
reservations had fled. It was almost as if she were a parishioner of
his own. "I need hardly tell you that the doctor's whole attitude
toward--toward revelation--was deeply repugnant to me. It doesn't make
it any the less hateful to call it science. I am afraid, though," he
went on hesitatingly, "that there are difficulties in the way of my
helping, as you call it. You see, the very fact of my being a Methodist
minister, and his being a Catholic priest, rather puts my interference
out of the question."
"No; that doesn't matter a button," said Celia, lightly. "None of us
think of that at all."
"There is the other embarrassment, then," pursued Theron, diffidently,
"that Father Forbes is a vastly broader and deeper scholar--in all these
matters--than I am. How could I possibly hope to influence him by my
poor arguments? I don't know even the alphabet of the language he thinks
in--on these subjects, I mean."
"Of course you don't!" interposed the girl, with a confidence which the
other, for all his meekness, rather winced under. "That wasn't what
I meant at all. We don't want arguments from our friends: we want
sympathies, sensibilities, emotional bonds.
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