oved Brenton as a son, the younger ones as
something a little dearer than a brother. One and all, they missed his
pastoral visitations, his incisive sermons on the righteousness of
honest living; above all else, they missed his voice. If they could
have kept these personal marks of the man himself, their rector might
have been welcome to believe anything he chose. He was their shepherd
and their friend. His curate was there to supply theology enough to
answer for them both.

However, Brenton, once his resignation was handed in, turned a deaf ear
alike to argument and coaxing. The reason for his resignation he had
insisted on setting forth downrightly: he was able no longer to affirm
absolute belief in some of the main tenets of his church. The entire
community loved Brenton. Now it gave proof of that love in a most loyal
fashion. It neither gossiped, nor indulged in undue speculation; it
merely did its best to accept the given explanation in all simplicity,
and say as little about it as was possible. How well it lived up to its
efforts was another question.

Of course, one little circle of Brenton's intimates, the Keltridges and
the Opdykes and the Dennisons, talked of the matter freely among
themselves, discussing causes, watching for effects. They regretted the
necessity for change, doubted it, even. Granted the necessity, though,
they rejoiced that Brenton could be transplanted from one calling to
the other, without the need for their losing him from their midst. It
was Brenton the friend they cared for; not Brenton the preacher and
pastor of souls. Moreover, there was not one of them who, asked, would
have hesitated to affirm that now at last Scott Brenton was entering
upon his true calling. Indeed, had not Professor Opdyke the word of his
old colleague, Professor Mansfield, to that effect? Had not Professor
Mansfield, even, left his classroom, in the middle of the term, for the
sake of appearing before the trustees of the college, and giving his
vehement testimony to that same effect?

The college, that section of the college, at least, which dealt with
the chemical department, rejoiced greatly, when once Scott Brenton was
launched upon his lecture courses. Doctor Keltridge, trustee and
medical adviser, though, had a double cause for his rejoicing. Not only
did he believe that at last Brenton was the right peg in the proper
hole; but he was overjoyed at the possibility of what the change might
accomplish in the