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Our apartment was constantly visited by ecclesiastics--Monsignori,
Archbishops, even one of the Cardinals of the Propaganda, brought there
by Bishop Walsh (the Bishop of our own diocese), and I could not help
but hear portions of their conversation.
"It will be difficult, extremely difficult," the Cardinal would say.
"Such marriages are not encouraged by the Church, which holds that they
are usually attended by the worst consequences to both wife and husband.
Still--under the exceptional circumstances--that the bridegroom's family
was Catholic before it was Protestant--it is possible, just
possible. . . ."
"Cardinal," my father would answer, while his strong face was darkening,
"excuse me, sir, but I'm kind of curious to get the hang of this
business. Either it can be done or it can't. If it can, we'll just sail
in and do it. But if it can't, I believe I'll go home quick and spend my
money another way."
Then there would be earnest assurances that in the end all would be
right, only Rome moved slowly, and it would be necessary to have
patience and wait.


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