"Yes, there are many like him," the rector answered. "But you must
remember how short a time man has been evolving from a lower animal
condition to his present state, and how much higher he is to-day than
he was a hundred years ago even, when occasional drunkenness was
considered an attribute of a gentleman. Now it is a vice of which he
is ashamed."
"Then you believe in evolution?" Joy asked with a note of surprise in
her voice.
"Yes, I surely do; nor does the belief conflict with my religious
faith. I believe in many things I could not preach from my pulpit.
My congregation is not ready for broad truths. I am like an eclectic
physician--I suit my treatment to my patient--I administer the old
school or the new school medicaments as the case demands."
"It seems to me there can be but one school in spiritual matters,"
Joy said gravely--"the right one. And I think one should preach and
teach what he believes to be true and right, no matter what his
congregation demands. Oh, forgive me. I am very rude to speak like
that to you!" And she blushed and paled with fright at her boldness.
They were seated on a rustic bench now, under the shadow of a great
tree.
The rector smiled, his eyes fixed with pleased satisfaction on the
girl's beautiful face, with its changing colour and expression. He
felt he could well afford to be criticised or rebuked by her, if the
result was so gratifying to his sight. The young rector of St
Blank's lived very much more in his senses than in his ideals.
"Perhaps you are right," he said. "I sometimes wish I had greater
courage of my convictions. I think I could have, were you to
stimulate me with such words often. But my mother is so afraid that
I will wander from the old dogmas, that I am constantly checking
myself. However, in regard to the case I mentioned to you--it is a
delicate subject, but you are not like ordinary young women, and you
and I have stood beside so many sick-beds and death-beds together
that we can speak as man to man, or woman to woman, with no false
modesty to bar our speech.
"A very sad case has come to my knowledge of late. Miss Adams, a
woman who for some years has been a devout member of St Blank's
Church, has several times mentioned her niece to me, a young girl who
was away at boarding school. A few months ago the young girl
graduated and came to live with this aunt. I remember her as a
bright, buoyant and very intelligent girl. I have not seen her now
during two months; and last week I asked Miss Adams what had become
of her niece. Then the poor woman broke into sobs and told me the
sad state of affairs. It seems that the girl Marah is her daughter.
The poor mother had believed she could guard the truth from her
child, and had educated her as her niece, and was now prepared to
enjoy her companionship, when some mischief-making gossip dug up the
old scandal and imparted the facts to Marah.