m not to seek the hand of a rich girl. She
would not be suited to the trials of a minister's life. But finding
that Henry was firm in his opinion that this sound general principle
did not in the least apply to this particular case, the professor
proceeded to touch the tenderest chord in the young man's heart. He
told him that it would be ungenerous, and in some sense dishonorable,
for him to take a woman delicately brought up into the poverty and
trial incident to a minister's life. If you understood, sir, how morbid
his sense of honor is, you would not wonder at the impression this
suggestion made upon him. To give up the ministry was in his mind to be
a traitor to duty and to God. To win her, if he could, was to treat
ungenerously her whose happiness was dearer to him a thousand times
than his own."

"I hope he did not give her up," said the doctor.

"Yes, he gave her up, in a double spirit of mediaeval self-sacrifice.
Looking toward the ministry, he surrendered his love as some of the old
monks sacrificed love, ambition, and all other things to conscience.
Looking at her happiness, he sacrificed his hopes in a more than
knightly devotion to her welfare. The knights sometimes gave their
lives. He gave more.

"For three years he did not trust himself to return to his home. But,
having graduated and settled himself for nine months over a church,
there was no reason why he shouldn't go to see his mother again; and
once in the village, the sight of the old schoolhouse and the old
church revived a thousand memories that he had been endeavoring to
banish. The garden walks, and especially the apple trees, that are the
most unchangeable of landmarks, revived the old passion with
undiminished power. He paced his room at night. He looked out at the
new house of his rich neighbor. He chafed under the restraint of his
vow not to think again of Jennie Morton. It was the old story of the
monk who thinks the world subdued, but who finds it all at once about
to assume the mastery of him. I do not know how the struggle might have
ended, but it was all at once stopped from without.

"There reached him a rumor that Jennie was already the betrothed wife
of a Colonel Pearson, who was her father's partner in business. And,
indeed, Colonel Pearson went in and out at Mr. Morton's gate every
evening, and the father was known to favor his suit.

"Jennie was not engaged to him, however. Three times she had refused
him. The fourth time, in