who had herself breathed the forbidden atmosphere of an English
University; she prattled familiarly of things and persons wherewith the
poor priest, in his provincial poverty and isolation, could have no
acquaintance; she let him understand that by her marriage she had passed
into hell-flame regions of pure intellect, that little parish priests
might denounce but could never appreciate. He bore it all very meekly; he
liked her tea and talk; and at bottom the sacerdotal pride, however
hidden and silent, is more than a match for any other.

Augustina lay for a while in a frowning and flushed silence, with a host
of thoughts, of the most disagreeable and heterogeneous sort, scampering
through her mind. Suddenly she said:

"I don't think Sister Angela should talk as she does! She told me when
she heard of the engagement that she could not help thinking of St.
Philip Neri, who was attacked by three devils near the Colosseum, because
they were enraged by the success of his holy work among the young men of
Rome. I asked her whether she meant to call Laura a devil! And she
coloured, and got very confused, and said it was so sad that Mr. Helbeck,
of all people, should marry an unbelieving wife--and we were taught to
believe that all temptations came from evil spirits."

"Sister Angela means well, but she expresses herself very unwarrantably,"
said the priest sharply. "Now the Reverend Mother tells me that she
expected something of the kind, almost from the first."

"Why didn't she tell me?" cried Augustina. "But I don't really think she
did, Father. She makes a mistake. How _could_ she? But the dear Reverend
Mother--well! you know--though she is so wonderfully humble, she doesn't
like anybody to be wiser than she. And I can hardly bear it--I _know_ she