McLaren was simply "Tom." Nothing
seemed able to change these relations; nor did the parties most deeply
interested desire to change them.

Tom in his travels had been to Durham. Yes, it turned out that he had
spent _much_ of his spare time in that ancient city, and that his home at
those visits was usually at the episcopal residence.

Tom and Eleen had met at McLaren's wedding, and it did not take long for
the old, old story to find a place in their lives. Of course anyone from
America who was acquainted with their son was welcomed by the bishop and
his wife. But knowing the intimate relations existing between these two,
Tom was made doubly welcome. Besides this, Tom had developed into a
splendid man in both body and mind. He was six feet high and well
proportioned. He had inherited a healthy constitution, lived a clean and
natural life, and was in the best sense a handsome man, one whom in
passing you would incline to glance at a second time. He soon became
quite popular at Heidelberg with both lecturers and students, so when he
visited Barnard's Castle, the family of Grandpa Sparrow, received Billy's
son with open arms and hearts. The unsophisticated old people just sat
and looked at him and listened to his words about his father and mother,
and the great farm which he was operating so successfully. Cliff Farm was
a little more than a mile from Barnard's Castle, and as Elder Sparrow was
very popular with the people, many of them came to see Billy's son, both
young men and maidens, and many a delightful time they had together.
Though gifted with personal grace of person, Tom's real attractiveness
was his naturalness. He was just as simple and natural as when, years
ago, he went to the warehouse and talked to God about Carl. And so, now
at twenty-one, he had a pleasant greeting and a happy word for everyone.
The young girls were charmed and the young men listened admiringly. He
talked to the young farmers about farming. Horses, breeds of cows, sheep
hogs, fertilizers, until the young men went away feeling that they knew
but little about real farming.

The aged rector of Ascension Church, who had known Billy when a child,
came to Cliff Farm to see Billy's son. He likewise knew something of the
Monastery, and more about Bishop Albertson, with whom he had been
associated in his collegiate days at Oxford. The aged clergyman was much
interested in the curriculum at Monastery University, and perhaps no one
was better able