d my soul!" went on Courtland.

"I know," said Tennelly, in profound sorrow. "She told me."

"She _told you_?"

"Yes, before we were engaged. She told me that she had asked you to give
up preaching, that she could never bear to be a minister's wife. I had
begun to realize what that would mean to you then. I respected your
choice. It was great of you, Court! But you never really loved her, man,
or you could not have given her up!"

Courtland was silent for a moment, then he burst out: "Nelly! It was not
that! You _shall_ know the truth! She asked me to give up _my God_ for
her!"

"_I have no God_," said Tennelly, dully.

A great yearning for his friend filled the heart of Courtland. "Listen,
old man, you _mustn't_ marry her!" he burst out again. "I believe she's
rotten all the way through. You didn't see and hear all last night. She
_can't be_ true! She hasn't it in her! She will be false to you whenever
she takes the whim! She will lead you through hell!"

"You don't understand. I would _go_ through hell to be with her!"

Tennelly's words rang through the room like a knell, and Courtland could
say no more. There was silence in the room. Courtland watched his
friend's haggard face anxiously. There were deep lines of agony about
his mouth and dark circles under his eyes.

Suddenly Tennelly lifted his hand and laid it on his friend's. "Thanks,
Court. Thanks a lot. I appreciate it all more than you know. But this is
my job. I guess I've got to undertake it! And, _man_! can't you see I've
_got_ to believe her?"

"I suppose you have, Nelly. God help you!"

When Courtland got back to the seminary he found a letter from Mother
Marshall.

CHAPTER XXXII

Courtland opened Mother Marshall's letter with a feeling of relief and
anticipation. Here at least would be a fresh, pure breath of sweetness.
His soul was worn and troubled with the experience of the past two days.
A great loneliness possessed him when he thought of Tennelly, or when he
looked forward to his future, for he truly was convinced that he never
should turn to the love of woman again; and so the dreams of home and
love and little children that had had their normal part in his thoughts
of the future were cut out, and the days stretched forward in one long
round of duty.

DEAR PAUL [it began, familiarly]:

This is Stephen Marshall's mother and I'm calling you by
your first name because it seems to bring my boy back again
t