"But I'm going to keep on asking you just the same," said George. "You won't get angry if I keep it up, will you?" "I--guess--not. I feel rather badly when you don't. I don't like to say no; but I would feel awful if you didn't give me a chance to say it. Good-bye George." "Good-bye dearest. You can't forbid me loving you anyway, and some day you'll take me for what I am." Clara shook her head. "You know," she said. As the door closed, Dick wheeled around from the press, holding out his ink-stained hand to George. "What's the matter?" said the other wonderingly, but grasping the outstretched hand of his helper. "I want to shake hands with a man, that's all," said Dick. "Why don't you join the church and win her?" "Because if I did that I wouldn't be worthy of her," said George. "You have strange ideas for this day and age." "Yes, I know; but I can't help it; wish I could." "You're a better man than half the church members." George shook his head. "It won't do, Dickie, and you know it as well as I. That's too big a thing to go into for anything but itself. What is it mother used to say? No other Gods before me, or something like that." And Dick said to himself as he turned back to the press, "I have indeed, shaken hands with a man." CHAPTER XIV The night was at hand when the young people were to hold their special meeting in the interest of the new movement. Clara Wilson had worked incessantly, and when at last the evening arrived, was calm and well satisfied. Whether the effort proved a success or not, she would be content, for she had done her best.