d faithfully over my steps,
the untarnished record of the son cannot but rejoice the heart of the
father--a record which is the undoubted product of religious training."

"You are a good son, and I am proud of you," accorded Mr. Conrad with
candor. "Your mother, too, is a woman whose equal is not to be found.
All this is very well. But, if Louise's city manners and free way of
thinking scandalize you, you are sheerly narrow-minded. I have been
noticing her for years, and have learned to value her industry and
domestic virtues. She has not a particle of extravagance; on the
contrary, she has a decided leaning towards economy and thrift. She
will make an unexceptionable wife. Do you imagine, my son, my choice
could be a blind one when I fixed upon Louise to share the property
which, through years of toil, I have amassed by untiring energy?"

"I do not deny the lady has the qualities you mention, my dear father."

"Moreover, she is a millionaire, and handsome, very handsome, and you
are in love with her--what more do you want?"

"The most important thing of all, father. The very soul of conjugal
felicity is wanting, which is oneness of faith in supernatural truth.
What I adore, Louise denies; what I revere, she hates; what I practise,
she scorns. Louise never prays, never goes to church, never receives
the sacraments, in a word, she has not a spark of religion."

"That will all come right," returned Mr. Conrad. "Louise will learn to
pray. You must not, simpleton, expect a banker's daughter to be for
ever counting her beads like a nun. Take my word for it, the weight of
a wife's responsibilities will make her serious enough."

"Serious perhaps, but not religious, for she is totally devoid of
faith."

"Enough; you shall marry her nevertheless," broke in the father. "It is
my wish that you shall marry her. I will not suffer opposition."

For a moment the young man sat silent, struggling painfully with the
violence of his own feelings.

"Father," said he, then, "you command what I cannot fulfil, because it
goes against my conscience. I beg you not to do violence to my
conscience; violence is opposed to your own and my Christian
principles. An atheist or a progressionist who does not recognize a
higher moral order, might insist upon his son's marrying an infidel for
the sake of a million. But you cannot do so, for it is not millions of
money that you and I look upon as the highest good. Do not, therefore,
dear fathe