The priest smiled in a dubious way. "Don't borrow unnecessary alarm
about that, Mr. Ware," he said, with studied smoothness of modulated
tones. "These two good friends of mine have much enjoyment out of
the idea that they are fighting for the mastery over my poor unstable
character. It has grown to be a habit with them, and a hobby as well,
and they pursue it with tireless zest. There are not many intellectual
diversions open to us here, and they make the most of this one. It
amuses them, and it is not without its charms for me, in my capacity
as an interested observer. It is a part of the game that they should
pretend to themselves that they detest each other. In reality I fancy
that they like each other very much. At any rate, there is nothing to be
disturbed about."

His mellifluous tones had somehow the effect of suggesting to Theron
that he was an outsider and would better mind his own business. Ah, if
this purring pussy-cat of a priest only knew how little of an outsider
he really was! The thought gave him an easy self-control.

"Of course," he said, "our warm mutual friendship makes the observation
of these little individual vagaries merely a part of a delightful whole.
I should not dream of discussing Miss Madden's confidences to me, or the
doctor's either, outside our own little group."

Father Forbes reached behind him and took from a chair his black
three-cornered cap with the tassel. "Unfortunately I have a sick call
waiting me," he said, gathering up his gown and slowly rising.

"Yes, I saw the man sitting in the hall," remarked Theron, getting to
his feet.