He felt that his chance of seeing Alice would not be so good early in the day as it would be later in the afternoon; so he determined to deliver first the letter which his father had given him to Dr. Templeton.

The old clergyman’s church and rectory stood on an ancient street over toward the river, from which wealth and fashion had long fled.  His parish, which had once taken in many of the well-to-do and some of the wealthy, now embraced within its confines a section which held only the poor.  But, like an older and more noted divine, Dr. Templeton could say with truth that all the world was his parish; at least, all were his parishioners who were needy and desolate.

The rectory was an old-fashioned, substantial house, rusty with age, and worn by the stream of poverty that had flowed in and out for many years.

When Keith mounted the steps the door was opened by some one without waiting for him to ring the bell, and he found the passages and front room fairly filled with a number of persons whose appearance bespoke extreme poverty.

The Doctor was “out attending a meeting, but would be back soon,” said the elderly woman, who opened the door.  “Would the gentleman wait?”

Just then the door opened and some one entered hastily.  Keith was standing with his back to the door; but he knew by the movement of those before him, and the lighting up of their faces, that it was the Doctor himself, even before the maid said:  “Here he is now.”

He turned to find an old man of medium size, in a clerical dress quite brown with age and weather, but whose linen was spotless.  His brow under his snow-white hair was lofty and calm; his eyes were clear and kindly; his mouth expressed both firmness and gentleness; his whole face was benignancy itself.

His eye rested for a moment on Keith as the servant indicated him, and then swept about the room; and with little more than a nod to Keith he passed him by and entered the waiting-room.  Keith, though a little miffed at being ignored by him, had time to observe him as he talked to his other visitors in turn.  He manifestly knew his business, and appeared to Keith, from the scraps of conversation he heard, to know theirs also.  To some he gave encouragement; others he chided; but to all he gave sympathy, and as one after another went out their faces brightened.

When he was through with them he turned and approached Keith with his hands extended.

“You must pardon me for keeping you waiting so long; these poor people have nothing but their time, and I always try to teach them the value of it by not keeping them waiting.”

“Certainly, sir,” said Keith, warmed in the glow of his kindly heart.  “I brought a letter of introduction to you from my father, General Keith.”

The smile that this name brought forth made Keith the old man’s friend for life.

“Oh!  You are McDowell Keith’s son.  I am delighted to see you.  Come back into my study and tell me all about your father.”