think I don't
understand," she said; "but Paul has interested me in them, and I had
thought, if I went on studying, I might some day work and speak about
them. Lots of women do."

"And why not? One of the best speakers I ever heard was a woman."

"I thought you would be sure to hate the notion."

"Why should I, unless----"

"Unless what?"

"You should speak any word against the Master whom I serve," said the
rector. "On philanthropic subjects I could go with you heart and soul."

"I would not speak on a subject of which I know nothing," said Sally,
eagerly. "I've told you that I am only a seeker after truth, picking
up a scrap here and there as I can find it."

"And you will reach the truth after a time," said Mr. Curzon, holding
out his hand, "if you are ready to acknowledge a Power higher than
yourself, to Whom you may safely appeal to guide you to all truth.
Without that, you will grope along in the darkness."

Before Sally could answer he had gone. Was there such a power she
wondered? What rest and comfort such a conviction would bring with it.
She made no mention of her talk to the rector to Paul when he came in;
she shrank from his glib criticism of Mr. Curzon's simple declaration
of faith.

As Mr. Curzon walked home he caught sight of Tom Burney leaning over a
gate with his back turned towards the road. The very poise of his
head, and droop of his shoulders, showed depression of body and mind;
and with intuitive sympathy Mr. Curzon stopped and laid a kindly hand
on his shoulder.

"The very man I was wanting!" he said cheerily. "I thought you would
be sure to come and see me to-night."

For a moment Tom's dark, handsome eyes sought his; then dropped for
very shame.

"No, I wasn't," he said bluntly. "But I'm glad to have the chance of
telling you that I've got the sack for what happened last night. Dixon
took good care to report me; and I'm to leave at the end of this week."

"What is your quarrel with Dixon?"

There was a long pause. "We're after the same girl," said Tom, a
little huskily; "and he don't care what he does as long as he can get
me out of the way. He made me drunk last night."

"Oh no," replied Mr. Curzon, shortly; "you made yourself drunk. Tell
the truth about it, Tom."

"Well, I'll tell you straight what happened. We were all in the public
together----"

"You went there of your own free will, I suppose?"

"Yes. I've been there plenty of times before, and never