le lay in his sheer inability to
tally up you and a benign Providence into any proper sort of a sum.
Therefore, one of you must be improper and, hence, must be abolished.
Therefore, as you were very weighty and manifestly refused to budge, he
proceeded to abolish Providence."

"Hm. Well." Opdyke spoke thoughtfully. "I begin to see. However, even
if I am to blame, I still insist upon it I'm not guilty. Meanwhile,
what now?"

"Meanwhile, he's become so enamoured of the abolishing process that
he's keeping on. Unless we can contrive to break up the habit, in the
end he will analyze himself into his original elements, and then
abolish those."

Reed laughed. Then he said slowly,--

"Poor beggar!"

"Yes," Whittenden assented, with sudden gravity; "that is just it. Poor
beggar! And now, the worst of it all is that, unless we break it up at
once, it will have to run its course, like any other disease."

"You call it a disease?"

"In his case, I do. Brenton isn't after any working truth to help along
the rest of us; he's started hunting the _ignis fatuus_ of abstract
verity, provable to its utmost limit. Taken as mental gymnastics, it is
doubtless a fine exercise. Taken as a spiritual tonic to a lot of
world-tired fellow mortals, I confess I doubt its inherent value."

"You told him so?"

"In all honour, as an older man inside the same profession, I couldn't
do much else."

"And he?"

"Resented it, exactly as you or I would have resented it, if we had
happened to be standing in his spiritual shoes. I couldn't blame him,
Reed; and yet I'm sorry."

Reed nodded.

"I know. Those things always take it out of one. Besides, it's hard
lines to help in upsetting your own pedestal. I'm sorry that Brenton
took it badly, Whittenden. I didn't think it of him; you have counted
so much to him, for years."

Whittenden spoke a little sadly.

"He thinks that he has outgrown me, Reed; therefore he won't feel the
hurt of it, one half so much."

Opdyke looked up sharply, a world of comprehension in his brave brown
eyes.

"But it has hurt you, Whittenden."

"Yes," his companion confessed. "It has. It has hit me hard on my
besetting sin, Reed, the liking to know that I'm of use to people. And
I was of use to Brenton; I'd hoped to keep the old relation to the end;
but it's impossible. I found that out, to-day."

"It depends on what you call being of use," Opdyke retorted. "You may
not have coddled up his Ego, and patacaked h