"The Master's service is my first consideration," said Augustus Spangler.
Dr. Lavendar looked at him over his spectacles. "Mr. Spangler, the Christian business-man serves the Master just as well as we do."
"I should wish to reflect," said Mr. Spangler.
"Of course."
"Miss Baily would, I fear, object to going so far away."
"If the place is still open, I'll manage Ellen," said Dr. Lavendar; but he looked at Mr. Spangler narrowly. "And your own entreaties will, of course, weigh with her if you show determination. I think you told me you were pretty determined?"
"I have," said Mr. Spangler, "an iron will; but that would not justify me in insisting if Miss Baily—" His voice trailed off; it rose before him—the far-off, bustling city, the office, the regular hours, the people whose toes must not be stepped upon, the letters to write and read, the papers to file, all the exact minutiae the position involved. And his comfortable old house? his leisure? his ease? And Mary Ann? Mary Ann would never consent to go so far! "I—I really—" he began.
Dr. Lavendar frowned. "Mr. Spangler, I would not seem to urge you. Ellen is too dear to us for that. But if you appreciate her as I suppose you do—"
"I do indeed!" broke in poor Augustus Spangler, fervently.
"The way is probably open to you."