“I’m not sure that I want to be a clergyman, father.  I said study theology.  I want to know what scholarly Christians think of the Bible.  I’ve studied it with a lot of scholarly heathen who couldn’t see anything in it but literary merit.  Now I want to see what it is that has made it a living power all through the ages.  I’ve got to know what saints and martyrs have founded their faith upon.”

“Well, Paul, I’m afraid you’re something of an idealist and a dreamer like your mother.  Of course it’s all right with your income, but, generally speaking, it’s as well to have an object in view when you take up study.  If I were you I would look into the matter most carefully before I made any decisions.  If you really think the ministry is what you want, why, I’ll just put a word in at our church for you.  Our old Doctor Bates is getting a little out of date and he’ll be about ready to be put on the retired list by the time you are done your theological course.  Let’s see, how long is it, three years?  Had you thought where you will go?  What seminary?  Better make a careful selection; it has so much to do with getting a good church afterward!”

“Father!  You don’t understand!” said Courtland, desperately, and then sat back and wondered how he should begin.  His father had been a prominent member of the board of trustees in his own church for years, but had he ever felt the Presence?  In the days when Courtland used to sit and kick his heels in the old family pew and be reproved for it by his aunt, he never remembered any Presence.  Doctor Bates’s admirable sermons had droned on over his head like the dreamy humming of bees in a summer day.  He couldn’t remember a single thought that ever entered his mind from that source.  Was that all that came of studying theology?  Well, he would find out, and if it was, he would quit it!

They were all comfortably glad to see him at home.  His stepmother beamed graciously upon him in between her social engagements, and his young brothers swarmed over him, demanding all the athletic news.  The house was big, ornate, perfect in its way.  It was good to eat such superior cooking—­that is, if he had been caring to eat anything just then; and there was a certain freedom in life out of college that he knew he ought to enjoy; but somehow he was restless.  The girls he used to know reminded him of Gila, or else had grown old and fat.  The Country Club didn’t interest him in the least, nor did the family’s plans for the summer.  It suited him not at all to be lionized on account of his brilliant career at college.  It bored him to go into society.