y, or at least several times, you have told me that I was
right, or that you had not thought of such and such things before, or
something of that sort." Rachel stopped in the broad path between the
hedges in front of the house, where they were walking, and, looking him
full in the face, said, "How is it possible, Mr. Johnsen, that you who
have studied theology, and intend in the course of time to take priest's
orders, have not already long ago made the subject clear to yourself,
and taken your line accordingly?"

Johnsen's eyes fell before her clear and penetrating glance as he
answered, "I have been quite enough troubled by doubts and anxieties,
which are things none of us can escape; but if it now appears to
you--and I must confess that it is the fact--that I have neglected
certain points, I must plead that this negligence has been caused by my
peculiar education. I come from a poor home, a very poor home"--he
seemed to regain his confidence as he spoke--"and I have raised myself,
without any special abilities, by sheer hard work. My time has,
therefore, been fully occupied during my studies, and, as far as my
opinion goes, a person who is working in real earnest has but little
time for speculation. Besides, there is something about the subject
itself, and about the men with whom one is brought into
contact--something, what shall I call it?--something soothing,
reassuring, which has the effect of making the doubts which from time to
time appear bring, as it were, their own solution with them. But life's
experience, and even more, my aquaintance with you, Miss Garman, has
caused me to waver on many points."

"Do you remember our first conversation?" she asked.

"I don't think I have forgotten a single word that has passed between
us."

"It was one of the first Sundays you were at Sandsgaard."

"The conversation at dinner turned upon the subject of war. Was not that
the day you mean?" asked he.

"Yes, exactly," answered Rachel. "Mr. Delphin was maintaining, in his
foolish, superficial way, that the spirit of the time would soon get rid
of the evil of war, if we could only have done with kings and priests.
You may remember Mr. Martens got quite excited, and insisted that
priests were distinctly men of peace, and that their work was the work
of peace. And then Mr. Delphin made the adroit answer, that any one who
liked could go to church any Sunday, and hear how devoutly this man of
peace, Mr. Martens, prays for the