A new name

by Grace Livingston Hill

“Yes, your letter. It ought to have reached here sooner, but it seems to have miscarried, and gone around by the dead letter office. However, it got here in time for the session meeting, and I wanted to tell you that we accepted it, of course, and that we are counting you in with the others this morning. There’ll be quite an accession. We would rather have had you present at the session meeting, of course, but it will be all right. There’s really no need. Today is our communion service. You know that, of course. All you need to do is to come forward when your name is called. But I didn’t want to take you unaware.”

Accession! Come forward when your name is called! What the dickens was the man talking about? He could think of nothing but the astounding situation in which he had placed himself, and that letter upstairs. Then the minister hadn’t got one yet. But he would soon. He must forestall anything more. At least he could confess before the whole thing was brought down about his ears.

“Yes,” he was saying to Doctor Harrison, “yes. That’ll be quite all right with me, Doctor,” and he had not the slightest idea what it was all about. Some collection they were going to take up probably, that they wanted an unusual number of ushers. Well, it would not do any harm for him to do one more thing, but he simply must do something about this right off at once.

“Doctor Harrison!” he shouted, just as the hurried minister was about to hang up, “I want to have a little talk with you. When can I see you?”

“Yes?” said the minister anxiously, “why, not before service, I’m afraid. Suppose we say after service, or perhaps after dinner would be better. We’ll have more time then. Any time after dinner before Sunday-school. I’ll be glad to see you. I have two or three schemes I want you to help me carry through.”

He turned with a dazed look from the telephone and met Mrs. Summers’ pleasant smile.

“Mr. Murray, I’ve put your breakfast on a tray, so you can eat while you finish dressing. There isn’t much time, you know. Suppose you just carry it up with you and take a bite and a sup while you comb your hair.”

He obediently took the tray to his room, but he did not eat anything. His mind was filled with confusion, and wondering what he ought to do. One thing became plain to him as he glanced at his watch, and saw that it was almost time for church to begin. He had just promised the minister he would officiate at some kind of an affair in the church, and he certainly must be there on time to find out what kind of an ordeal he was to be put through now. But this was the last one of those he would ever endure. Truth for him from hence forth. After he had talked with the minister and made a clean breast of things he would clear out. Last week if he had been in these same circumstances, he would have cleared out without waiting for the talk with the minister, but today it was different. Something in him had changed, something that affected his whole life, and he could not somehow even think of running away. Some kind of confession and restitution must be made, so far as he was able, before he could be done with the past.

He was all in confusion as to what or how it must be done, but he knew that he must stay by the situation and clear it up. It was a part of the self-surrender of the day before.

He hurried through his shaving and dressing; as he tossed wildly among the collars and neckties that belonged to another man, in the trunk that was not his, he began to wonder about Allan Murray, and what he was going to say to him. For that he had also to account to him was another settled fact in his mind. The letter that lay face down on his bed was like the presence of a stranger in the room, something that had to be faced. As a last act before he left the room he swept his letters into the bureau drawer, took one swallow of coffee, and hurried down to where Mrs. Summers stood waiting for him at the front door.