"It is possible," Philip said doubtfully. "Mr. Wentworth is, however,
rather inclined to disagree with me nowadays. He is completely carried
away by Mr. Strathmore."
A strange look came into the face of the old priest. He laid down his
pen, and pressed together the tips of his white fingers, thin with
fasting and self-denial.
"Did you not once tell me," he asked, "that Mr. Wentworth has hoped for
years that he might bring your mother also into the fold?"
"Yes."
"And you are her only child?"
"Yes."
Father Frontford cast down his eyes; then raised them to flash a glance
of vivid intelligence upon Ashe. Then again he looked down.
"I think that you had better run down and see your mother," he said.
"It is possible that she may be even now leaning toward the truth; and
in any case you might arouse Mr. Wentworth to fresh activity. It is of
much importance that the country clergy should be pledged not to
support Mr. Strathmore in the convention."
Philip went away confused and baffled. He said to himself that his
feeling was caused solely by his disappointment that he had found no
opportunity to talk with the Father Superior about his own affairs; but
it was impossible for him to put out of his mind the way in which his
mission to Montfield had been spoken of.
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