in love with her, he told himself, but he did want
her to think well of him. She had heard about Helen, of course. It
was the old story. He could not lift his hat to a girl but the whole
congregation must stand waiting for him to marry her. He fairly
writhed in his indignation during the night, the only night his Glenoro
congregation had disturbed his slumbers, and the next morning he was no
nearer a solution of his difficulties.

The poor young man was treading a hard road, one which was made all the
harder because it was of his own choosing. For he had, like the
foolish priests of olden times, tried to do, with carnal means, a holy
task which demanded heavenly, and was suffering the naturally resulting
confusion and distress. For he had forgotten that the Jehovah who
demanded holy fire from Nadab and Abihu, does so even to-day; and the
priest who raises unconsecrated hands to His altar must even yet hear
the dread tones of the Omnipotent--"I will be sanctified in them that
come nigh Me: and before all the people I will be glorified."

X

THE WATCHMAN'S DESPAIR

The summer was gone. The harvest days, the days of crimson and golden
woods, of smooth-shaven fields, of orchards weighed down with their
sweet burden, and of barns bursting with grain had come. A tingle of
frost in the bracing air told that they must soon give place to winter.

One mild evening Duncan Polite sat at his shanty door, watching the sun
go down behind the flaming trees. He knew the nights would soon be too
chill for this pleasant pastime and he cherished each moment spent at
his open door. In his sadness and anxiety, the glorious robes assumed
by Nature at the sunset hour lifted, for a little, the shadow from his
spirit.

But to-night the sun went down in a colourless silver glow, which
prophesied winter and storms, and to Duncan the grey dreariness seemed
in keeping with his feelings. For Donald had gone back to the city
that day, and when he had bidden the boy farewell the old man had also
parted with his great aspiration. Donald had come to him the week
before, and with his usual frankness made known the fact that he could
never entertain any further thought of entering the ministry, and had
therefore abandoned all idea of returning to college. The sacrifice of
his education was a great trial to Donald, but he could not return
under a false pretence.

Duncan Polite made no appeal, uttered no reproof. He realised that