it with arrogance.

But Crowther uttered neither reproach nor admonition. He met the look
with the utmost kindliness--the most complete understanding.

"Something will turn up, lad," he said, with steady conviction. "But
not--probably--in the way you expect."

Piers' face showed a momentary surprise. "How on earth do you
know?" he said.

"I do know," Crowther made steadfast reply; but he offered no explanation
for his confidence.

Piers thrust out an impulsive hand. "You may be right and you may not;
but you've been a brick to me, old fellow," he said, a note of deep
feeling in his voice,--"several kinds of a brick, and I'm not likely to
forget it. If you ever get into the Church, you'll be known as the parson
who doesn't preach, and it'll be a reputation to be proud of."

Crowther's answering grip was the grip of a giant. There was a great
tenderness in the far-seeing grey eyes as he made reply. "It would be
rank presumption on my part to preach to you, lad. You are made of
infinitely finer stuff than I."

"Oh, rats!" exclaimed Piers in genuine astonishment.

But the elder man shook his head with a smile. "No; facts, Piers!" he
said. "There are greater possibilities in you than I could ever
attain to."

"Possibilities for evil then," said Piers, with a very bitter laugh.

Crowther looked him straight in the eyes. "And possibilities for good, my
son," he said. "They grow together, thank God."

PART III

THE OPEN HEAVEN

CHAPTER I

THE VERDICT

"It's much better than learning by heart," said Jeanie, with her tired
little smile. "Somehow, you know, I can't learn by heart--at least not
long things. Father says it is because my brain is deficient. But Mother
says hers is just the same, so I don't mind so much."

"My dear, it will take you hours to read through all this," said
Avery, surveying with dismay the task which the Vicar had set his
small daughter.

"Yes," said Jeanie. "I am to devote three hours of every day to it. I had
to promise I would." She gave a short sigh. "It's very good for me, you
know," she said.

"Is it?" said Avery. She smoothed back the brown hair lovingly. "You
mustn't overwork, Jeanie darling," she said.

"I can't help it," said Jeanie quietly. "You see, I promised."

That she would keep her promise, whatever the cost, was evidently a
foregone conclusion; and Avery could say nothing against it.

She left the child to work therefore, and wandered down hersel