There came whimsically into his head a
thought of the wisdom of training the clergy to the social gifts and
graces, and he remembered the flippant speech of Mrs. Wilson about the
need of their being able to pay compliments.
"I seem to be specially stupid when I try to talk to you," he said with
boyish frankness.
Miss Morison looked at him curiously.
"Am I to take that as a compliment or the reverse?" she asked.
"It must be a compliment, I suppose, for it shows how much power you
have over me."
He was reassured by her smile, and felt that this was not so badly
said.
"The power to make you stupid, I think you intimated."
"Oh, no," he responded, with more eagerness than the occasion called
for; "I didn't mean that."
She smiled again, a smile which seemed to him nothing less than
adorable, and yet which teased him a little, although he could not tell
why. She took up the novel which lay in her lap.
"Have you read this?" she inquired.
He shook his head.
"You forget," he answered, "that I am a deacon. At the Clergy House we
do not read novels."
"How little you must know of life," returned she.
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