it very fine behavior--very fine, indeed, sir." Rex's face flushed under
this. "And as I thought the whole affair over afterwards, I not only
understood why you had failed me, but I honored you for attempting no
explanation, and I made up my mind that you were the man we wanted. Yes,
sir, the man we want. A man who knows how to deal with the situations of
to-day, with the vices of a great city, that is what we want. I consider
tact, and broad-mindedness and self-sacrifice no small qualities for a
minister of the gospel; and a combination of those qualities, as in you,
I consider exceptional. So I went to this vestry meeting primed, and I
told them we had got to have you, sir--and we've got to. You'll come?"

The question was much like an order, but Rex did not mind. "Indeed, I'll
come, Judge Rush," he said, and his manner of saying it won the last
doubtful bit of the Judge's heart.

The Sunday morning when the new assistant preached his first sermon in
St. Eric's, there sat well back in the congregation a dark-eyed girl,
and with her a tall and powerful young man, whose deep shoulders and
movements, as of a well fitted machine, advertised an athlete in perfect
form. The girl's face was rapt as she followed, her soul in her eyes,
the clean-cut, short sermon, and when the congregation filtered slowly
down the aisles she said not a word. But as the two turned into the
street she spoke at last.

"He is a saint, isn't he, Billy?" she asked, and drew a long breath of
contentment.

And from six-feet-two in mid-air came Billy Strong's dictum. "Margery,"
he said, impressively, "Rex may be a parson and all that, but, to my
mind, that's not against him; to my mind that suits his style of