'What!'

'I have thought more and more of Sainway since his death, and of what he
used to say to me so earnestly. And I feel certain I shall be right in
obeying a call within me to give up this fighting trade and enter the
Church.'

'What--be a parson?'

'Yes.'

'But what should I do?'

'Be a parson's wife.'

'Never!' she affirmed.

'But how can you help it?'

'I'll run away rather!' she said vehemently;

'No, you mustn't,' Maumbry replied, in the tone he used when his mind was
made up. 'You'll get accustomed to the idea, for I am constrained to
carry it out, though it is against my worldly interests. I am forced on
by a Hand outside me to tread in the steps of Sainway.'

'Jack,' she asked, with calm pallor and round eyes; 'do you mean to say
seriously that you are arranging to be a curate instead of a soldier?'

'I might say a curate is a soldier--of the church militant; but I don't