tone in which David spoke these last words was unusual and
significant.

The eyes stopped at a point on the page. The lips were pressed
tightly together.

David rose and walked quietly out of the room. After he had closed
the door behind him and put his foot on the stairs, he stopped and
with fresh determination reopened the door. His father had shut the
Bible, laid it on the floor at the side of his chair, and was
standing in the middle of the room with his eyes on the door
through which David had passed. He pointed to his son to be seated,
and resumed his chair. He drew his penknife from his pocket and
slowly trimmed the ravellings from his shirt-cuffs, blowing them
off his wrists. David saw that his hands were trembling violently.
The tragedy in the poor action cut him to the heart and he threw
himself remorsefully into the midst of things.

"Father, I know I have disappointed you! Know it as well as you do;
but I could not have done differently."

"YOU not believe in Christianity! YOU not believe the Bible!"

The suppressed enraged voice summed up again the old contemptuous
opinion.

The young man felt that there was another than himself whom it
wounded.

"Sir, you must not speak to me with that feeling! Try to see that I