She had sunk down upon an anvil, on which lay a newspaper, the first seat that she could find, and thence surveyed the strange, incongruous scene.
"Well, if you ask, I don't like it," answered Morris.

"But there is no other place that I can have, for my father is afraid of the forge in the house, and I can't afford to build a workshop outside." "It ought to be restored," said Mary, "with a beautiful organ in a carved case and a lovely alabaster altar and one of those perpetual lamps of silver--the French call them 'veilleuses', don't they ?--and the Stations of the Cross in carved oak, and all the rest of it." Mary, it may be explained, had a tendency to admire the outward adornments of ritualism if not its doctrines.
"Quite so," answered Morris, smiling.

"When I have from five to seven thousand to spare I will set about the job, and hire a high-church chaplain with a fine voice to come and say Mass for your benefit.

By the way, would you like a confessional also?
You omitted it from the list." "I think not.

Besides, what on earth should I confess, except being always late for prayers through oversleeping myself in the morning, and general uselessness ?" "Oh, I daresay you might find something if you tried," suggested Morris.
"Speak for yourself, please, Morris.