Tennelly talked and talked, but finally went back to his room baffled.  He just couldn’t understand what was the matter with Courtland!

When Uncle Ramsey returned from a fruitless search for the “rat” he was enraged to find that Courtland was not awaiting his coming in trembling eagerness to accept his munificent offer.

Another personal interview that evening brought nothing more satisfactory than a promise to look into the matter carefully, and to have another talk the next evening.  Uncle Ramsey raged and swore.  He blamed the little rat of a preacher, and declared he must leave for Boston that evening; but he finally sent a telegram instead and decided to remain until the next night.  There were matters in the city he was intending to look after on his return, and of course he could do it now instead.  He felt it was important that that young man should be landed before he had a chance to do too much thinking.  Moreover, he was piqued that a youngster like that should presume to consider turning down a job like the one he was offering him.

If Courtland had tried to explain to Tennelly and his uncle just why this offer, which would have delighted him so much three months before, was hanging in the balance of his mind, they would scarcely have understood.  He would have to tell them of the Presence which was by his side, which had been very real to him as he stood in Tennelly’s room listening to Uncle Ramsey that afternoon, and which had hovered by him since, so close, so strong, with that pervading, commanding nearness that demanded his utmost attention.  He would have had to tell them that he was under orders now, being led, and that every step was new and untried; he must look into the face of his Companion and Guide, and find out if this was the way he was to go!

Something, somewhere was holding him back.  He did not know why, he did not see for how long.  He simply could not make that decision to-night!  He must await permission before moving.

Possibly the trip to the factory the next day, which he had promised to take, might give him some light in the matter.  Possibly he would find counsel somewhere.  But where?  He thought of Gila.  He took out a lovely photograph of her that she had given him before he left her Sunday night—­a charming, airy, idealistic thing of earth and fire that had lain innocently open upon the library table where some one (?) had left it earlier in the day.  He stood it up on his desk and studied the spirited will-o’-the-wisp face!  Then he turned away sadly and shook his head.  She would not understand.  Not yet!  Some time, when he had told her about the Presence—­but not yet!  She could not understand because she had not seen for herself.

Tennelly and his uncle went down-town in the morning and took lunch together.  Courtland was to meet them at the factory at three o’clock, but somehow he missed them.  Perhaps it was intention.  Courtland went early.  He wanted to see things for himself; went alone first.  Afterward he could go the rounds to satisfy Mr. Thomas, but first he would see it alone.