called him after you, Ned. It was Father Stafford who baptised him."

"So he has been baptised!"

"He was not three days old when he was baptised."

"Of course. He could not have gone to heaven if he had not been
baptised."

"Ned, I don't think it kind of you to say these things to me. You never
used to say them."

"I am sorry, Ellen; I'll say no more, and I'm glad it was Father
Stafford who baptised him. He is the most sensible priest we have. If
all the clergy were like him I should find it easier to believe."

"But religion has nothing to do with the clergy. It is quite possible
to think the clergy foolish and yet to believe that the religion is the
true one."

"I like the clergy far better than their religion, and believe them to
be worthy of a better one. I like Father Stafford, and you like having
a priest to dinner. Let us ask him."

"I'm afraid, Ned, that Father Stafford is getting old. He rarely leaves
the house now and Father Maguire does all the work of the parish."

She liked clerical gossip; the church was finished, and how Biddy heard
the saints singing in the window made a fine tale.

"So now we have a local saint."

"Yes, and miracles!"

"But do you believe in miracles?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't like to say. One is not obliged to believe
in them."

"I'm sure you would enjoy believing in Biddy."

"Oh, Ned, how aggressive you are, and the very day you come back."

But why hadn't she asked him about America and about his speeches? He
had looked forward to telling her about them. She seemed to care
nothing about them; even when she spoke about them after dinner, he
could see that she was not as much interested in politics as she used
to be. However, she wore a white dress and black stockings; her red
hair was charmingly pinned up with a tortoise-shell comb, and taking
her upon his knee he thought it would be well to please himself with
her as she was and forget what she was not.

Next morning when he picked up the newspaper and the daily instalment
of a cardinal's tour through Ireland caught his eye, he remembered that
Ellen had sent for a theologian.... His eyes went down the columns of
the newspaper and he said, "All the old flummery. Ireland's fidelity to
her religion, etc., her devotion to Rome, etc.,--to everything," he
said, "except herself. Propagations of the faith, exhortations to do as
our ancestors had done, to do everything except make life joyous and
triumphant." Looking