o be a hypocrite."

He wondered as he spoke why he took the trouble to answer the woman so
fully. Her question was in a way impertinent, much like the way her
daughter talked. Yet she seemed wholly unconscious of it.

"I know," she assented sorrowfully. "There's lots of them in the church.
We have 'em, too, even in our little village. But still, after all, you
can't help havin' confidence more in them that has 'named the name' than
in them that has not."

Reyburn looked at her curiously and felt a sudden infusion of respect
for her. She was putting the test of her faith to him, and he knew by
the little stifled sigh that he had been found wanting.

"I s'pose lawyers don't have much time to think about being Christians,"
she apologized for him.

He felt impelled to be frank with her:

"I'm afraid I can't urge that excuse. Unfortunately I have a good deal
of time on my hands now. I've just opened my office and I'm waiting for
clients."

"Where were you before that? You did not just get through studying?"

He saw she was wondering whether he was wise enough to help her protege.

"No, I spent the last three years in France."

"Up at the front?" The pupils of her eyes dilated eagerly.

"Yes, in every drive," he answered, wondering that a woman of this sort
should be so interested now that the war was over.

"And you came back safe!" she said slowly, looking at him with a kind of
wistful sorrow in her eyes. "My boy was shot the first day he went over
the top."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Reyburn gently, a sudden tightness in his throat.

"But it was all right." She flashed a dazzling smile at him through the
tears that came into her eyes. "It wasn't as if he wasn't ready. Johnny
was always a good boy, an' he joined church when he was fourteen, an'
always kep' his promises. He used to pray every night just as faithful,
an' read his Bible. I've got the little Testament he carried all
through. His chaplain sent it to me. It's got a bullet hole through it,
and blood-marks, but it's good to me to look at, 'cause I know Johnny's
with his Saviour. He wasn't afraid to die. He said to me before he left,
he says: 'Ma, if anythin' happens to me it's all right. You know, Ma, I
ain't forgettin' what you taught me, an' I ain't forgettin' Christ is
with me.'"

Mrs. Carson wiped her eyes furtively, and tried to look cheerful.
Reyburn wished he knew how to comfort her.

"It makes a man feel mean," he said at last, trying to fit