in saying good afternoon. That day Jason drove back to town
with Scattergood.

"Likely-lookin' girl--Seliny," observed Scattergood.

"Beautiful," said the parson, and Scattergood grinned.

"Um!... Single ministers is a menace. Yes, sir, churches has busted up
on account of their ministers not bein' married."

There was no reply.

"But I calculate you're different. You're jest made and created to be an
old batch. Never seen sich a feller. Couldn't no girl interest you, not
if she was the Queen of Sheeby."

"Mr. Baines," said Jason, after a pause, "I'm very miserable. I--I think
I shall resign from my church and go away."

"Sandrich Islands or somewheres--missionery feller?" said Scattergood.

"I--why, yes, that's what I'll do.... I wish I'd never seen her." Then
he corrected himself sharply. "No, I don't. I'm glad I've seen her. I've
got that much, anyhow. I can always remember her and think about how
sweet and beautiful she was--"

"And die at the age of eighty with her name comin' from your lips on
your last breath. To be sure.... Seems to me, though, it would be a
sight more satisfyin' to live them fifty-odd years _with_ her and raise
up a fam'ly, and git some benefits out of that sweetness and beauty and
sich like, besides mullin' 'em over in your mind. Speakin' of Seliny,
wasn't you?"

"Yes."

"Don't hanker to marry her?"

"Mr. Baines--"

"Then why in tunket don't you?"

"She's a Baptist."

"White, hain't she?"

"Yes."

"Respectable?"

"Of course, sir."

"Don't call to mind no state law ag'in' Congregationalists marryin'
Baptists."

"My congregation wouldn't allow it."

"Hain't never seen no deed of sale of you to your congregation."

"Her father would never permit it?"

"Huh!..."

"And she's an obedient daughter."

"Has she said so?"

"Y-yes."

"Ho! Kind of human, after all, hain't you? Look pleased when she said
it?"

"She cried."

"Comfort her--some."

"I--She--she loves me, Mr. Baines."

"Well, I snum! Kind of disobedient to love you, hain't it? Knows her
father 'd be set ag'in' it?"

"Yes, but she can't help that."

"Why?"

"You--why, you _fall_ in love! You don't do it on purpose, Mr. Baines.
It just comes to you."

"From where?" said Scattergood, abruptly.

The young minister stared.

"Who's to blame for there bein' love?" Scattergood demanded.

After a pause the young man answered. "God," he said. "Why does He send
it?"

"So that people will marry, a