“Ah, my dear!” Mr. Lucas cried. “Now I shall have you back as soon as I can open the way for you! You were a good secretary; I miss you. But you were also a good confessor of the Faith! Amazing, but it was you who first brought home to me unescapably what I’d been suspecting all along; that there really was something unaccountable on natural grounds in the Old Church. I’m going to be a Catholic at Pentecost, my dear Cicely!” “Yes, I know; Jeanette told me. I’m so thankful! And I could cry when you say I was the one who set you on!” Cis exclaimed. “Nothing to cry over! We don’t cry Te Deums, and that’s your theme,” Mr. Lucas smiled at her. “When will you return to the office? As soon as I provide the space?” “I think so, Mr. Lucas. Miss Braithwaite would rather I’d stay at home all the time, but I’m afraid that’s a risk for a red-haired girl; they’re not crickets on hearths! Miss Braithwaite promises me all that I can do, though. We’ll see. May I have a few days in which to adjust?” Cis asked. “Now I’m going on to find Father Morley.” The Jesuit was at home; he received Cis with his cordial, yet appraising look that took an inventory of her days since he had last seen her. He seemed satisfied with what he saw; his eyes softened and smiled approvingly. He recognized in Cicely’s face a new expression of self-reliance, purpose; peace that was not incompatible with the eager, wistful, unsatisfied look which her face also wore. “Ready for the next thing,” he told himself, “and it’s not far ahead of her.” But aloud he said: “I am glad, exceedingly glad that you have come back to us, Cicely. Miss Braithwaite is thankful; she is deeply attached to you. You wrote me of that remarkable sequel to your fidelity to God’s law. Do you care to tell me more about it?” “I want to tell you all about it, Father,” Cis answered. “I might have married Rodney without wrong-doing, but--Father, I couldn’t! Isn’t that strange? I didn’t want to. I’m not a fickle person, but I didn’t want to. He told me that I had been right as to his still being married. He felt that there was no divorce when he knelt by his dying wife. It’s all strange, isn’t it?”