"That hardly would be the way." "No I'm afraid it wasn't. He's so very sensitive, you see. Why he actually got quite angry with me." "What did he say?" "Well, he said that he really did think I ought to have known better." "And what did you say then?" "Oh I called him a----but I couldn't possibly tell You what I called him, Holy Father." "Why not?" "Well really it was too dreadful. I've been regretting it ever since." "What did you call him?" "Oh it's quite impossible that I should repeat it to You, Holy Father. I should never be able to hold up my head again." "Nonsense, Mr. Guthrie. We desire to know it." "I'm sure I don't know what You'll think of me, Holy Father: but the fact is I went so far as to call him a--no, really I cannot--well--I'm sure I can't think what possessed me to use such an opprobrious term but I was excessively annoyed You see at the moment and the word slipped out before I was quite conscious of what I was saying----" "What did you call him?" "Well really if You must have it, Holy Father, I called him a Goose!" "Oh.... And what did he do to you?" "Burst into a roar of laughter and shut his door in my face." "Did you feel pained?" "Well perhaps just a little at the time: but not when I came to think it over. You see I really can't help feeling sorry for him." "Why?" "Well because really he must be very unhappy, You know, Holy Father." "In your opinion, Mr. Guthrie, he himself is the cause of his own unhappiness?" "Quite so, Holy Father. You see he doesn't seem to be able to rub along with the other men. He can't come down to their level so to speak. He keeps himself too much to himself: won't or can't conciliate the least little bit. Of course they all think it's pride on his part; and they pay him out with practical jokes of a rather doubtful kind I'm afraid. He's good and kind and clever and all that sort of thing: but he hasn't the slightest idea of making himself popular as a church-student should be among church-students. You see, he's what I may call (if I may be quite frank about him) such a Beastly Fool. The rector doesn't like it I'm sure." "Then perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the fault is not so much in the man as in his environment?" "That's what I've always said, Holy Father. His present environment is quite unsuitable for a man of that kind. He must find it extremely unpleasant." "Mr. Guthrie, won't you try to make it more pleasant for him? Bear with him: defend him: don't seem to form a party with him against the others: but don't give the others the idea that you approve of their attitude to him. Will you do as much as that?" "I'm sure I'll do anything in my power, Holy Father." "That at least is in your power.--God bless you."