Cis was reliving her outing with Rodney that afternoon; it gave her food for new and serious thought. Rodney had definite and adverse views in regard to religion from her views and, apparently, he was especially adverse to hers, to the Old Faith. This surprised her. She had thought of him as indifferent, with an indifference not greatly unlike her own, the difference being that she was indifferent within her faith, while he was indifferent outside of any faith; the difference between two persons without an appetite, one seated at a table, the other resting in an ante-room. Yet this was an exaggeration of the situation as she had previously conceived it. Cis meant to keep her Faith, somewhat as one keeps a valuable piece of lace, not letting it get lost, but not often getting it out of its storage drawer. Rod, however, had pleaded with her, speaking with impassioned earnestness, not to adhere to the Church, to cast it off as a shackle. She had been amazed to find that he cared, violently desired to get her to drop out of her Church. Why did he? What difference could it make to him that she held to it, provided that it did not get in the way of their friendship? If she bothered him with it, tried to convince him of its truth, let it come between them in any way, behaved about it as Nan would, for instance, Rod might justly consider it a nuisance, but as it was, why did he mind? He had said that he had once learned catechism. What catechism? Episcopalian? Cis thought that Lutherans, and Presbyterians also, had a catechism, but she was not conversant with the ways of the Protestant sects. It could not have been the Catholic catechism? In that case Rod himself had once been to Mass, had probably been instructed and received the Sacraments as she had. But this was not likely; Cis did not believe that G. Rodney Moore had ever been within the Church. Perhaps poor Cis found it hard to believe that anyone who had ever been actually within her could ever be actually outside of her.