recover your ideas--the ideas that are necessary to you--or you may go
on discovering the truth, and in the end may perhaps find a way whereby
you may leave your parish without causing scandal. To be quite truthful,
that is what I hope will happen. However this may be, I hope if we ever
meet again it will not be till you have ceased to be a priest. But all
this is a long way ahead. We are going East, and shall not be back for
many months; we are going to visit the buried cities in Turkestan. I do
not know if you have ever heard about these cities. They were buried in
sand somewhere about a thousand years ago, and some parts have been
disinterred lately. Vaults were broken into in search of treasure. Gold
and precious stones were discovered, but far more valuable than the gold
and silver, so says Mr. Poole, are certain papyri now being deciphered
by the learned professors of Berlin.

'You know the name of Mr. Poole's book, "The Source of the Christian
River"? He had not suspected that its source went further back than
Palestine, but now he says that some papyri may be found that will take
it far back into Central Asia.

'I am going with him on this quest. It sounds a little absurd, doesn't
it? my going in quest of the Christian river? But if one thinks for a
moment, one thing is as absurd as another. Do you know, I find it
difficult to take life seriously, and I walk about the streets thinking
of you, Father Gogarty, and the smile that will come over your face,
half angry, half pleased, when you read that your schoolmistress is
going to Central Asia in quest of the Christian river. What will you be
doing all this time? You say that you cannot leave your parish because
you fear to give scandal; you fear to pain the poor people, who have
been good to you and who have given you money, and your scruple is a
noble one; I appreciate and respect it. But we must not think entirely
of our duties to others; we must think of our duties to ourselves. Each
one must try to realize himself--I mean that we must try to bring the
gifts that Nature gave us to fruition. Nature has given you many gifts:
I wonder what will become of you?

'Very sincerely yours,

'NORA GLYNN.'

'Good God, how I love that woman!' the priest said, awaking from his
reverie, for the clock told him that he had sat for nearly
three-quarters of an hour, her letter in his hand, after having read it.
And lying back in his armchair, his hands clasped, his eyes