when he was getting to a place where he would be needing money. And besides, how could he help Mr. Shambley without money? There was that side of the question he ought to consider, wasn’t there?
Something out of his early training tried to whisper a little line to his conscience about the consequences of doing evil that good might come. But he hadn’t reached that point of discernment where he fully realized that there might be evil in the very job he had been so pleased to get.
But a qualm passed through his consciousness about that business. He couldn’t think of himself going to Mr. Chalmers and arguing with him about the way he was treating Mr. Shambley. And of course there might be other cases like his. He couldn’t go to his boss and tell him how to run his business. This was the only case of this sort about which he knew definitely. The remedy in this case was for him to use some of his own money and help out this man.
After that, there might be more light on this matter. That girl June seemed to be a mighty clear thinker. He might get to a place where he could talk it over with her sometime, if he got to know her better. He wasn’t altogether sure yet about himself. She had asked some pretty stiff questions. Well, they were not exactly in question form, but they were put in such a way that they pierced his soul like questions. That last one he must take out and think about when he got time. Just how was it put? “It’s sin that makes people afraid of death, but Jesus took the sin and paid the death penalty with His blood, and if we believe that and accept it for ourselves, we have nothing to fear.” That was the way she had put it. Somehow her words seemed to be written deep in his heart, and he found almost impatience at them. He had just come home from the war, from things serious, and he did not want to be made to consider a foreground of death constantly. Of course, he didn’t mean exactly that, but his business now was to be successful in some kind of business, and to stick at it until he was sure of himself. He was a Christian, of course. What more did he need? He had no desire to go into the world, a world such as Reva represented, but if being good friends with her meant getting on in life, why shouldn’t he be a little friendly when he could? Well, he would look that matter over, too, and see what he could do about them all.
As he looked back over the war, with all its horror and death, he didn’t know but that life at home was going to be even more complicated than it was over there. In war one had to go where one was sent and do what one was told, and over here one had the right to choose. But one was not always sure whether one was choosing rightly. And of course, it did depend a lot on what one
wished
as a goal. If your object was just worldly success, you might ride roughshod over many of the forbidden ways and gain what you were after. Of course, being the son of such circumspect parents, he might not do that, but was he sure that he wanted to err on the other side of the subject? It wasn’t his business, was it, if Mr. Chalmers conducted his business in an almost shady manner? Perhaps he didn’t. Paige wasn’t sure, of course. But suppose he did. That was no concern of his, was it? He was only working for him, doing his part of the work conscientiously. Well, anyway, there could probably be some fault found with any job anywhere, if you just happened to come across it.
But anyway, whatever came, there was tomorrow morning, and he must hurry to the bank and get that money, stopping at June’s house to pick her up, and then away to the Shambley house.
From there his mind went carefully through the regime he had planned for giving Mr. Shambley the money, and advising him about the papers to be signed and the way to conduct himself.
He found that all through this there was June in a little blue dress—he hoped she would wear it again, or one a good deal like it. He could remember how
Something out of his early training tried to whisper a little line to his conscience about the consequences of doing evil that good might come. But he hadn’t reached that point of discernment where he fully realized that there might be evil in the very job he had been so pleased to get.
But a qualm passed through his consciousness about that business. He couldn’t think of himself going to Mr. Chalmers and arguing with him about the way he was treating Mr. Shambley. And of course there might be other cases like his. He couldn’t go to his boss and tell him how to run his business. This was the only case of this sort about which he knew definitely. The remedy in this case was for him to use some of his own money and help out this man.
After that, there might be more light on this matter. That girl June seemed to be a mighty clear thinker. He might get to a place where he could talk it over with her sometime, if he got to know her better. He wasn’t altogether sure yet about himself. She had asked some pretty stiff questions. Well, they were not exactly in question form, but they were put in such a way that they pierced his soul like questions. That last one he must take out and think about when he got time. Just how was it put? “It’s sin that makes people afraid of death, but Jesus took the sin and paid the death penalty with His blood, and if we believe that and accept it for ourselves, we have nothing to fear.” That was the way she had put it. Somehow her words seemed to be written deep in his heart, and he found almost impatience at them. He had just come home from the war, from things serious, and he did not want to be made to consider a foreground of death constantly. Of course, he didn’t mean exactly that, but his business now was to be successful in some kind of business, and to stick at it until he was sure of himself. He was a Christian, of course. What more did he need? He had no desire to go into the world, a world such as Reva represented, but if being good friends with her meant getting on in life, why shouldn’t he be a little friendly when he could? Well, he would look that matter over, too, and see what he could do about them all.
As he looked back over the war, with all its horror and death, he didn’t know but that life at home was going to be even more complicated than it was over there. In war one had to go where one was sent and do what one was told, and over here one had the right to choose. But one was not always sure whether one was choosing rightly. And of course, it did depend a lot on what one
wished
as a goal. If your object was just worldly success, you might ride roughshod over many of the forbidden ways and gain what you were after. Of course, being the son of such circumspect parents, he might not do that, but was he sure that he wanted to err on the other side of the subject? It wasn’t his business, was it, if Mr. Chalmers conducted his business in an almost shady manner? Perhaps he didn’t. Paige wasn’t sure, of course. But suppose he did. That was no concern of his, was it? He was only working for him, doing his part of the work conscientiously. Well, anyway, there could probably be some fault found with any job anywhere, if you just happened to come across it.
But anyway, whatever came, there was tomorrow morning, and he must hurry to the bank and get that money, stopping at June’s house to pick her up, and then away to the Shambley house.
From there his mind went carefully through the regime he had planned for giving Mr. Shambley the money, and advising him about the papers to be signed and the way to conduct himself.
He found that all through this there was June in a little blue dress—he hoped she would wear it again, or one a good deal like it. He could remember how
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