Courtland was silent for a moment, then he burst out: "Nelly! It was not that! You shall know the truth! She asked me to give up my God for her!"
"I have no God," said Tennelly, dully.
A great yearning for his friend filled the heart of Courtland. "Listen, old man, you mustn't marry her!" he burst out again. "I believe she's rotten all the way through. You didn't see and hear all last night. She can't be true! She hasn't it in her! She will be false to you whenever she takes the whim! She will lead you through hell!"
"You don't understand. I would go through hell to be with her!"
Tennelly's words rang through the room like a knell, and Courtland could say no more. There was silence in the room. Courtland watched his friend's haggard face anxiously. There were deep lines of agony about his mouth and dark circles under his eyes.
Suddenly Tennelly lifted his hand and laid it on his friend's. "Thanks, Court. Thanks a lot. I appreciate it all more than you know. But this is my job. I guess I've got to undertake it! And, man! can't you see I've got to believe her?"
"I suppose you have, Nelly. God help you!"
When Courtland got back to the seminary he found a letter from Mother Marshall.