“Do you believe, then, that God is a matchmaker?” asked Ernest, with a laugh. “I believe God will direct His people in all their affairs, when they ask Him in faith.” “But suppose I am not one of His people?” “If you are not,” said Mr. Hillston, with deep solemnity, “I am very sorry for you. It is your own fault, if you are not.” “Would it be of any avail for me to ask God’s direction, when I am not one of His people, as you call them?” “Not if you are determined to go on in your sins. If you make a full surrender of yourself to Him, I have no doubt He will assist and guide you. However, in that case you would be one of His people. But how could you expect God’s favor and friendship, if you stand to Him in the relation of an enemy?” “I do not know,” answered Ernest thoughtfully, and then after a moment he added, “I suppose I will have to look out for myself.” “I dislike to hear you talk that way, my dear boy,” said Mr. Hillston kindly, “for if you proclaim your independence of the Divine Being, you will lead a most wretched life.” “I did not mean that in any spirit of irreverence,” quickly answered Ernest. “All I meant was that, if I was not one of God’s people, I would have to take care of myself. I have the utmost respect for the Christian religion. My conduct, as you know, has proved that I have.” “Yes, I know you are a moralist, and you may be one of God’s children, notwithstanding the fact that you are living in sin.” “I do not understand you,” said Ernest. “I know you do not, but the time may come when you will. I will pray God to direct you, since you cannot do so for yourself. His will, no doubt, will be accomplished. You have not married Clara yet, and perhaps you may never do so.” “But I rather think I will,” said Ernest with considerable energy. “My boy, do not speak so positively. If God does not intend that it shall be so, you will never marry her.” “I should like to know what is to prevent it?” “I know not. But remember, ‘Man proposes, but God disposes.’ You cannot overcome your Maker.” “I do not propose to enter into any contest with God; because I do not think He cares whether I do this thing or that thing. Therefore I repeat that I will marry Clara.” “When it happens,” said Mr. Hillston, smiling, “we will talk more about it. Do not be too confident, my boy.” Ernest went to his office, wondering what in the world the old preacher could mean. Did he intend to predict that the “consummation to be devoutly wished,” at least by himself, would, at last, prove only an idle dream? What would be the use, he thought, of asking God to direct him in so simple an affair as a marriage? Besides, it was too late now. Like Cæsar, he had crossed the Rubicon, and he must go on. He loved Clara with all his heart--why, then, should he not fulfill his engagement? He would do it.