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Updated: May 11, 2025
The little mole on Sister Angela's nose the slightly drooping eyelid that marred the Reverend Mother's left cheek the nasal twang of the orphans' singing Father Bowles pouncing on a fly Father Leadham's stately ways she made a mock or an offence out of them all, bitterly chattering and drawing pictures with herself, like a child with a grievance.
In front of George Leadham's house were a couple of eucalyptus trees. Their long, lanceolate leaves were shaking as Pap and I passed through the gate. A man's shadow darkened the small porch. To the right was the room where Sissy lay. A light still shone in the window. The shadow moved; it was the doctor. He hurried forward.
Mr Leadham's cheque had been for a small amount, but it might probably lead the way to something better. People at any rate were talking about her, and her Tuesday evenings at home were generally full. And with regard to him too she was partly depressed, and partly elated, allowing her hopes however to dominate her fears. There was very much to frighten her.
History, in fact, is the great rationalist; and the Catholic conscience is scandalised by her. And so we have these pitiful little books " he laid his hand on the volume beside him "which simply expunge history, or make it afresh. And we have a piece of Jesuit apologia, like this paper of Leadham's so charming, in a sense, so scholarly!
In the village store it was conceded that Pap's room, rain or shine, was better than his company. His name was never mentioned till it began to fall from Sissy Leadham's delirious lips. The schoolmarm first told me that the child was asking for Andrew Spooner, moaning, wailing, shrieking for "pore old Pap." George Leadham was distracted.
Within a week yellow bunting waved from half a score of cottages in and about Paradise. And then, one heavenly morning, as we were riding into the village, we saw the hideous warning fluttering outside George Leadham's door. Sissy was down with it! Poor George, his brown, weather-beaten face seamed with misery, met us at the garden gate.
Helbeck, somewhat startled, recalled the facts of Father Leadham's personal history, and thought he understood. The subject was instantly dropped, and the two men walked on to the house, discussing a great canonisation service at St. Peter's and the Pope's personal part in it.
The two men walked on in silence for a time. Presently Father Leadham's face showed amusement, and he said: "Certainly we modern converts have a better time of it than our predecessors! The Bishop tells me the most incredible things about the old feeling towards them in this Vicariate.
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