rstand anything about this
matter."

"But, my dear friend, is there any sense to that reply? If you wished to
become a surveyor, and I should assure you that you would need to
acquire a knowledge of a certain branch of mathematics in order to
perfect yourself, would you coldly reply to me that you knew nothing
about that matter, and consider the question settled? You certainly
would not, if you had any confidence in me."

Pliny turned quickly toward him.

"You are wrong in that last position, at least," he said, eagerly. "If I
have confidence in any living being, I have in you, and certainly I have
reason to trust you. The way in which you cling to me, patiently and
persistently, through all manner of scrapes and discouragements, is
perfectly marvelous! Now, tell me why you do it?"

Theodore hesitated a moment before he answered, gravely:

"If you want to know the first cause, Pliny, it is because I pledged you
to my Redeemer, as a thank-offering for a gracious answer to my prayers,
which he sent me, even when I was unbelieving; and the second is,
because, dear friend, I love you, and _can not_ give you up."

Pliny lay motionless and silent, and something very like a tear forced
itself from between his closed eyelids.

"Pliny, will you utterly disappoint me?" said Theodore at last, breaking
the silence. "Won't you promise me to seek this Helper of mine?"

"How?"

"Pray for his aid; it will surely be given. You trust me, you say; well,
I promise you of a certainty that he stands ready to receive you. Will
you begin to-day, Pliny?"

"You will despise me if I tell you why I can not," Pliny said,
hesitatingly, after a long, and, on Theodore's part, an anxious silence.

"No, I shall not;" he answered, quickly.

"Tell me."

"Well then, it is because, whatever else I may have been, I have never
played the hypocrite, and I have sense enough left to know that the
effort which you desire me to make, will not accord with an engagement
which I have this very evening."

"What is it?"

"To accompany Ben Phillips to the dance at the hotel on the turnpike,
nine miles from here. I'm as sure that I will drink wine and brandy
to-night, as I am that I lie here, in spite of all the helps in
creation, or out of it. So what's the use?"

"Will you give me one _great_ proof of your friendship, Pliny?" was
Theodore's eager question.

"I'll give you 'most anything quicker than I would any other mortal,"
answered Pliny, wear