"Now, young man, you ought to drop this holiness stuff, for there is nothing in it—all bunk. Living above sin are you? Ha! ha! ha!" and the old man gave poor Robert an explosive horse-laugh.
"Goodbye, holy Robert," said Peter, as he drove away.
Robert sat still on the porch. He began to wonder if this was the way he was going to dedicate his new home, and if he had destroyed his influence in the community. What would Mary think of him! Good, quiet, godly Mary, who had always looked up to him as the embodiment of noble and manly qualities. And Mary was cherishing a little one under her heart, and preparing to receive a priceless treasure. What kind of a father was he going to be, Robert asked himself. Shall I tell her, or shall I hide it? Swiftly the thoughts ran through his mind while big, cold drops of sweat stood out upon his forehead like beads of crystal. Never before had he felt so thoroughly miserable. In his youth, Robert had never been quarrelsome, but he had accepted challenges whenever they were made. Since his conversion, however, he had lived a consistent Christian life, and he had been very particular of his conduct since God had shown him light on holiness and sanctification.
"I will kneel down here and pray," said Robert, out loud. This decision was his response to grim Despair, who had now put in his appearance with suggestions to give up all, go back into sin, quit professing, and be an open sinner.
"Why try it any longer?" said Despair. "You can never face your neighbors again. Give up. Give up. You have tried, and you have failed. You are a failure. Your reputation is gone. You can never live for Christ in this neighborhood. Get even with Newbys."
No sooner did Robert resolve, with holy determination, to defeat Despair and pray, than he got upon his knees. And there, at the doorway of his future home, he poured out his heart before Almighty God, and vowed he would not go back any farther than he was, and that he would strive, with all his heart, to do God's will.
As the sun began to go down behind the hills to the west of him, Robert started home. Flecks of cloudlets began to redden, and the denser strata of clouds took on a deep purple, as the western sky blazed out in a marvel of beauty. And Robert thought, truly, that "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork"; why could not man glorify Him better?
Mary saw at once that Robert wore a troubled expression on his face. Robert saw that Mary sensed that something was wrong. As soon as he could, he went in and sat by Mary's side.
"Mary, dear, I know that you will be ashamed of me, when I tell you what I have done," said Robert.
"My, Robert, what have you done?" cried Mary, "you look so troubled and gloomy."