"What is he like?"
The caressing action and the easy tone had their effect on
Horace. His face began to clear; he answered her lightly on his
side.
"Prepare yourself to meet the most unclerical of clergymen," he
said. "Julian is a lost sheep among the parsons, and a thorn in
the side of his bishop. Preaches, if they ask him, in Dissenters'
chapels. Declines to set up any pretensions to priestly authority
and priestly power. Goes about doing good on a plan of his own.
Is quite resigned never to rise to the high places in his
profession. Says it's rising high enough for _him_ to be the
Archdeacon of the afflicted, the Dean of the hungry, and the
Bishop of the poor. With all his oddities, as good a fellow as
ever lived. Immensely popular with the women. They all go to him
for advice. I wish you would go, too."
Mercy changed color. "What do you mean?" she asked, sharply.
"Julian is famous for his powers of persuasion," said Horace,
smiling. "If _he_ spoke to you, Grace, he would prevail on you to
fix the day. Suppose I ask Julian to plead for me?"
He made the proposal in jest. Mercy's unquiet mind accepted it as
addressed to her in earnest.
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