work hard and he already saw himself sitting in an
arm-chair, in a mahogany arm-chair, reading classics, and winning
admiration for his learning.

He walked home, thinking that everything was at last decided, when
suddenly, without warning, when he was thinking of something else, his
heart misgave him. It was as if he heard a voice saying: "My boy, I
don't think you will ever put on the cassock. You will never walk with
the biretta on your head." The priest had said that he did not believe
he would ever buckle on the policeman's belt. He was surprised to hear
the priest say this, though he had often heard himself thinking the
same thing. What surprised and frightened him now was that he heard
himself saying he would never put on the cassock and the biretta. It is
frightening to hear yourself saying you are not going to do the thing
you have just made up your mind you will do.

He had often thought he would like to put the money he would get out of
the farm into a shop, but when it came to the point of deciding he had
not been able to make up his mind. He had always had a great difficulty
in knowing what was the right thing to do. His uncle William had never
thought of anything but the priesthood. James never thought of anything
but the farm. A certain friend of his had never thought of doing
anything but going to America. Suddenly he heard some one call him.

It was Catherine, and Peter wondered if she were thinking to tell him
she was going to marry James. For she always knew what she wanted. Many
said that James was not the one she wanted, but Peter did not believe
that, and he looked at Catherine and admired her face, and thought what
a credit she would be to the family. No one wore such beautifully
knitted stockings as Catherine, and no one's boots were so prettily
laced.

But not knowing exactly what to say, he asked her if she had come from
their house, and he went on talking, telling her that she would find
nobody in the parish like James. James was the best farmer in the
parish, none such a judge of cattle; and he said all this and a great
deal more, until he saw that Catherine did not care to talk about James
at all.

"I daresay all you say is right, Peter; but you see he's your brother."

And then, fearing she had said something hurtful, she told him that she
liked James as much as a girl could like a man who was not going to be
her husband.

"And you are sure, Catherine, that James is not going to be