I was
carried away by my interest in you when I heard whose son you were. What
a debt we owe to men like your father and Rowley! And here am I at
seventy-six after a long and useless life presuming to criticize other
people. God forgive me!" The old man crossed himself.
That afternoon and evening recreation was unusually noisy, and during
Vespers one or two of the brethren were seized with an attack of giggles
because Brother Lawrence, who was in a rapt condition of mind owing to
the near approach of St. Lawrence's day when he was to be clothed as a
novice, tripped while he was holding back the cope during the censing of
the _Magnificat_ and falling on his knees almost upset Father Lamplugh.
There was no doubt that the way Brother Lawrence stuck out his lower jaw
when he was self-conscious was very funny; but Mark wished that the
giggling had not occurred in front of Father Lamplugh. He wished too
that during recreation after supper Brother Raymond would be less
skittish and Brother Dunstan less arch in the manner of reproving him.
"Holy simplicity is all very well," Mark thought. "But holy imbecility
is a great bore, especially when there is a stranger present."
Luckily Father Burrowes came back the following week, and Mark's
deepening impression of the monastery's futility was temporarily
obliterated by the exciting news that the Bishop of Alberta whom the
brethren were taught to reverence as a second founder would be the guest
of the Order on St.
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