At last he began to think he had said something to offend her, and to find out if this were so he would have to write to Father O’Grady telling him that Miss Glynn had written saying she had forgiven him.  Her forgiveness had brought great relief; but Miss Glynn said in her letter that she was alone in Berkshire, Mr. Poole having gone to London to seek information regarding the altars of the early Israelites.

From Father O’Grady to Father Oliver Gogarty.

’August 1, 19—.

’DEAR FATHER GOGARTY,

’I am sorry I cannot give you the information you require regarding the nature of Mr. Poole’s writings, and if I may venture to advise you, I will say that I do not think any good will come to her by your inquiry into the matter.  She is one of those women who resent all control; and, if I may judge from a letter she wrote to me the other day, she is bent now on educating herself regardless of the conclusions to which her studies may lead her.  I shall pray for her, and that God may watch over and guide her is my hope.  I am sure it is yours too.  She is in God’s hands, and we can do nothing to help her.  I am convinced of that, and it would be well for you to put her utterly out of your mind.

’I am, very truly yours,

‘MICHAEL O’GRADY.’

‘Put her utterly out of my mind,’ Father Oliver cried aloud; ’now what does he mean by that?’ And he asked himself if this piece of advice was Father O’Grady’s attempt to get even with him for having told him that he should have informed himself regarding Mr. Poole’s theological opinions before permitting her to go down to Berkshire.

It did not seem to him that Father O’Grady would stoop to such meanness, but there seemed to be no other explanation, and he fell to thinking of what manner of man was Father O’Grady—­an old man he knew him to be, and from the tone of his letters he had judged him a clever man, experienced in the human weakness and conscience.  But this last letter!  In what light was he to read it?  Did O’Grady fail to understand that there is no more intimate association than that of an author and his secretary.  If we are to believe at all in spiritual influences—­and who denies them?—­can we minimize these?  On his way to the writing-table he stopped.  Mr. Poole’s age—­what was it?  He imagined him about sixty.  ’It is at that age,’ he said, ’that men begin to think about the altars of the early Israelites,’ and praying at intervals that he might be seventy, he wrote a short note thanking Father O’Grady for his advice and promising to bear it in mind.  He did not expect to get an answer, nor did he wish for an answer; for he had begun to feel that he and Father O’Grady had drifted apart, and had no further need one for the other.

‘Are there no letters this morning?’ he asked Catherine.

‘None, sir.  You haven’t had one from London for a long time.’

He turned away.  ’An intolerable woman—­intolerable!  I shall be obliged to make a change soon,’ he said, turning away so that Catherine should not see the annoyance that he felt on his face.