seems so—so narrow. Church schools, for instance. There's more freedom about things that Catholic people can't see—like birth control."
Keith winced, almost imperceptibly, but Lois saw it.
"Oh," she said quickly, "everybody talks about everything now."
"It's probably better that way."
"Oh, yes, much better. Well, that's all, Keith. I just wanted to tell you why I'm a little—luke-warm, at present."
"I'm not shocked, Lois. I understand better than you think. We all go through those times. But I know it'll come out all right, child. There's that gift of faith that we have, you and I, that'll carry us past the bad spots."
He rose as he spoke and they started again down the path.
"I want you to pray for me sometimes, Lois. I think your prayers would be about what I need. Because we've come very close in these few hours, I think."
Her eyes were suddenly shining.
"Oh we have, we have!" she cried. "I feel closer to you now than to any one in the world."
He stopped suddenly and indicated the side of the path.
"We might—just a minute"
It was a pietà, a life-size statue of the Blessed Virgin set within a semicircle of rocks.
Feeling a little self-conscious she dropped on her
