"
It was impossible for Maurice to doubt the sincerity with which this
was said. He had no answer to give.
"Go now, my son," the Father concluded, "and do not forget to thank God
that the weakness of your heart may be turned into a means by which the
church may be served."
Maurice retired to his room in a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He was
summoned almost immediately to vespers and complines. The familiar
ritual soothed him, and he was able to join in the chants in much the
old way. His feeling was that he would gladly have had the service last
into the night. He would have liked to go on with this half emotional,
half mechanical devotion, which kept him from thinking, and which put
off the dreaded hour when he must face the proposition which had been
made to him.
It was the rule of the house that all the inmates should preserve
unbroken silence among themselves from complines until after nones the
next day. Maurice knew therefore that he was free from intrusion of
human companionship, which it seemed to him he could not have borne.
Even the talk of dear old Phil, to a chat with whom he had looked
forward as the one pleasure in coming back to the Clergy House, would
have been intolerable while this nightmarish trouble lay upon him.
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