Father Barham went away certainly disgusted; and yet not altogether disheartened. The man had not declared that he was not a Roman Catholic. He had shown himself to be a brute. He had blasphemed and cursed. He had been outrageously uncivil to a man whom he must have known to be a minister of God. He had manifested himself to this priest, who had been born an English gentleman, as being no gentleman. But, not the less might he be a good Catholic,--or good enough at any rate to be influential on the right side. To his eyes Melmotte, with all his insolent vulgarity, was infinitely a more hopeful man than Roger Carbury. "He insulted me," said Father Barham to a brother religionist that evening within the cloisters of St. Fabricius.
"Did he intend to insult you?"

Father Barham went away disgusted; and yet not disheartened. The man had blasphemed and cursed, and had been outrageously uncivil to a minister of God. He was no gentleman. But, none the less, he might be a good Catholic - or good enough at any rate to be influential. To his eyes Melmotte was a much more hopeful prospect than Roger Carbury.
"He insulted me," said Father Barham to a brother priest that evening at St. Fabricius. 