“We’re puny creatures,” her father was saying in the tone of a pessimist. “What do our efforts amount to, after all? There’s a saying—and it’s true—that ‘a man’s life is like a candle in the wind, or hoar frost on the tiles.’ It’s blown away or melted off, and there’s nothing left!”
The little dean fired up.
“The immortal soul is left! What would life be worth if we didn’t believe that a young, enthusiastic spirit like Overton’s had in it the seed of immortality? ‘White-breasted, like a star fronting the dawn he moved.’ A soul like his can’t be compared to the flame of a candle, Herford, but rather to the light of a star that is kindled in the darkness of our impotent endeavors. He had the magnificent youth, the immortal courage, that always lead the world!”
“Well, well!” retorted the judge, unmoved. “He had, at least, the courage to meet the great adventure.”
“He had more than that, papa,” Diane commanded herself to say quietly, lifting her head with a recurrent thrill of pride. “No one could know him without realizing that he had supremely the courage to live—to live as he believed a man should.”
At the sound of her voice Faunce turned his head sharply, and his face flushed, but his eyes dwelt on her with such earnestness that Diane, suddenly meeting his look, stopped in confusion. Her embarrassment surprised no one more than herself, for she had long ago achieved that sort of self-control which carries a woman through far more difficult moments than this. It was almost a relief to hear her father’s tranquil retort.
“Di’s a good friend,” he observed, throwing her a benevolent smile. “She always defends the absent. And she’s right this time. Overton had courage enough to have been allowed to live. It’s one of the mysteries why such men are cut off in their prime.”
“I had only one fault to find with him,” rejoined the dean, relapsing into his more usual formalism. “I said that to his face, and it saddens me now to recall it. He wasn’t what we call a Christian in the orthodox meaning of the word.”
“How can you say that?” exclaimed Diane warmly. “He was a Christian in the larger sense. Do you remember Abou Ben Adhem’s dream of peace? Of no man could it be said more truly than of Overton that ‘he loved his fellow men.’”
Dr. Gerry nodded.