Of course Father Beckett wanted to know why. (This was two days before
we started for Amiens.) Julian "registered reluctance." Father Beckett
persisted, and drew forth the information that Julian _might_ have to
cut short his career as a ministering Red Cross angel. "If it hadn't
been for you," he said, "my funds and my supplies would have run short
before this. You've helped me carry on. But I'm getting pretty close to
the bone again now, I'm afraid. A bit closer and I shall have to settle
down and give music lessons. That's all I'm fit for in future! And
Dierdre wouldn't want me to set up housekeeping alone. While I'm on this
Red Cross job it's all right, but----"
Of course Father Beckett broke in to say that there was no question of
not carrying on. Money should be forthcoming for supplies as long as
Julian felt inclined to drive the Red Cross taxi from one scene of
desolation and distress to another. Holidays must be frequent, and all
spent at the Chateau d'Andelle. Let the future decide itself!
So matters were settled--on the surface. Julian was ready to pose
before an admiring audience as the self-sacrificing hero, giving all his
time and energy to a noble cause. Only his sister and I knew that he was
the villain of the piece, and for different reasons neither of us could
explain the mistake about his role. He was sure of us both; impudently,
aggravatingly, yet (I can't _help_ it, Padre!) amusingly sure of me.
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