and a repulsion to her.

Helbeck smilingly told her that she was no worse than the mass of English
people. "They have set up their bogey and they like it." She would be
surprised to find how simple was the Jesuit secret.

"What is it?--in two words?" she asked him.

"Obedience--training. So little!" he laughed at her, and took her hand
tenderly.

She inquired if Mr. Williams were yet "a full Jesuit."

"Oh dear no! He has taken his first vows. Now he has three years'
philosophy, then four years' theology. After that they will make him
teach somewhere. Then he will take orders--go through a third year's
noviceship--get a doctor's degree, if he can--and after that, perhaps, he
will be a professed 'Father.' It isn't done just by wishing for it, you
see."

The spirit of opposition reared its head. She coloured, laughed--and half
without intending it repeated some of the caustic things she had heard
occasionally from her father or his friends as to the learning of
Jesuits. Helbeck, under his lover's sweetness, showed a certain
restlessness. He hardly let himself think the thought that Stephen
Fountain had been quoted to him very often of late; but it was there.

"I am no judge," he said at last. "I am not learned. I dare say you will
find Williams ignorant enough. But he was a clever boy--besides his art."