anything about what is past, Mr. McDonald," said the other
hastily; "I can never forget what I owe you, and it would be the
deepest of my many regrets in leaving Glenoro if you and I could not
part friends."

"There need be no doubt of that," said Donald simply; "I am sorry you
are leaving."

John Egerton's face was overcast. "I must. I came here not knowing
what was required of me. In fact, I never realised what was required
of my calling until I had a glimpse into a life of real Christian
consecration. I am going to another field, to do better work, I hope."

Donald was touched by the honest confession. This did not seem the
gay, self-sufficient young man he had met on former occasions. "I
cannot pretend to criticise another man's life, knowing my own," he
answered humbly. "I am sure I wish you all success in your new place."

"Thank you. Success does not mean quite the same to me now as it did a
few months ago. There is one thing I would like to say to you before I
go, Mr. McDonald"--he hesitated--"I believe your uncle wished you to
enter the ministry?"

Donald made a motion of assent. That was a subject upon which, as yet,
he could not trust himself to speak.

"I thought so. And part of his hope was that I should help you to it,"
he added bitterly. "But I have hoped and prayed every day since that
God would lead you to it. Have you decided yet?"

Donald's voice was not quite steady. "I have. A man surely does not
need a second lesson such as I have had to show him the way."

John Egerton held out his hand again. "I am very, very glad," he said
earnestly. "Do not make my mistake. There is no sting like the sting
of regret; you and I both know that."

Donald was silent. He was not given to much speaking at any time, and
now the depth of his feeling closed his lips. But he took his pastor's
hand with a heart-warming grip, and without another word the two parted
in mutual understanding and sympathy.

But at the sight of Jessie leaning over the gate between the oaks all
other thoughts fled from Donald's mind. She wore a soft white dress,
with a blue ribbon, his favourite colour, at her throat. Her uncovered
head, with its wealth of golden brown curls, was poised like a flower
on a slender stem. Her deep eyes were aglow with welcome. "I saw you
talking to Mr. Egerton," she said, when Donald had opened the gate for
her and they were passing down the village street.

"Yes, he's an honest