Sir James looked across at his younger son and nodded; and Chris, his
chin on his hand, and sitting very upright on the long-backed settle
beside the chaplain, began rather nervously and abruptly.

"I--I have told Ralph," he said, "on the way here and you, sir; but I
will tell you again. You know I was questioning whether I had a vocation
to the religious life; and I went, with that in my mind, to see the Holy
Maid. We saw her, Mr. Carleton and I; and--and I have made up my mind I
must go."

He stopped, hesitating a little, Ralph and his mother sat perfectly
still, without a word or sign of either sympathy or disapproval. His
father leaned forward a little, and smiled encouragingly.

"Go on, my son."

Chris drew a breath and leaned back more easily.

"Well, we went to St. Sepulchre's; and she could not see us for a day or
two. There were several others staying with us at the monastery; there
was a Carthusian from Sheen--I forget his name."

"Henry Man," put in the chaplain.

"--And some others," went on Chris, "all waiting to see her. Dr. Bocking
promised to tell us when we could see her; and he came to us one morning
after mass, and told us that she was in ecstasy, and that we were to
come at once. So we all went to the nuns' chapel, and there she was on
her knees, with her arms across her breast."