He looked now through the darkness toward Storm. "Moving on"? with his lady there, alone, deserted? He tried to picture Kate Kildare away from her environment of field and wood and open spaces, sharing with him that crowded intense life of cities toward which his mind yearned. But it was impossible. Once more he put ambition from him--if it was ambition that called. What right has a priest with ambition? No!--exile he might be, but exile he would remain, and gladly. What were they all but exiles--her daughters, his father in prison and out of prison, James Thorpe, who stayed because she might miss his friendship--all exiles from the world that called them, because of Kate Kildare? "It's enough to be near her," he said to himself with a little sigh, looking once more through the darkness toward Storm. With Farwell and Channing, too, on their way home, some glow of that good talk lingered. "There's something about the chap--I don't know what it is," murmured Farwell, vaguely. Channing nodded comprehension. "It's that you want him to like you, somehow. You want him to--respect you, I think." Farwell looked around at him mockingly. "What a novel and virtuous sentiment! You'll be getting religion next." He added after a moment, "Can't say you're going about it exactly the right way, if you really want the dominie's respect, you know." Channing flushed. "You mean the girl? It's not his girl, Morty--it's the mother he's after. If it were the girl--damned if I wouldn't get out of the way and give him a clear field!" Farwell jeered. "Yes, you would! With the quarry in full view?" "In full pursuit, you mean," said Channing, ruefully. "I wish I could make you understand that this affair isn't entirely of my own seeking, Farwell!" His companion yawned. "Awkward to be so damned fascinating, isn't it? Look out--one of these days some of your fair friends are going to band themselves together, and catch you unawares, and marry you, my boy." "One isn't a Mormon, worse luck," grunted the other. CHAPTER XXV It was a part of Channing's new policy of caution with regard to Jacqueline that took him occasionally to Storm in the rôle of casual caller, especially now that the older girl was not there to disconcert him with her oddly observant gaze. Here he frequently found other callers, young men who since Professor Thorpe's entertainment had discovered that the distance between Storm and their homes, by automobile and even by train, was a negligible trifle. These young men Jacqueline referred to, with innocent triumph and evident justice, as "victims." "I _told_ Jemmy there was no need of going away from home to get beaux," she said complacently to Channing. "Here I've sat, just like a spider in a web, and--look at them all! To say nothing of you," she added, with a little gasp at her own daring.