TEN YEARS LATER
The Monastery Church has assumed the size and somewhat the character of a
cathedral and the good bishop has begun to feel the irksomeness of his
accumulating labors. True, he is able to attend to his episcopal duties,
but even they have in many instances been laid upon his gifted
son-in-law. This has been almost entirely true of the University
superintendency, so much so, in fact, that McLaren has acquired the title
of Dean and is now seldom, addressed by, or spoken of, by any other
official title than Dean.
Alice has become quite matronly, and her two boys, Leonidas and Tom, make
cheerful the episcopal residence, and enliven the episcopal heart. The
students in the preparatory department speak of her as Mother McLaren,
because of her sweet and loving guardianship; and the older students
bring their trouble and confidences to her for comfort and advice. Tom
Sparrow, after he graduated, spent three years at Heidelberg and won the
degree of Ph.D. But while these honors came to Tom, and still greater
honors had come to McLaren, they were still the same to each other. To
Tom, McLaren, although addressed as "Doctor" by others, was still "my
Carl," and in return the younger man to McLaren was simply "Tom." Nothing
seemed able to change these relations; nor did the parties most deeply
interested desire to change them.
Tom in his travels had been to Durham. Yes, it turned out that he had
spent _much_ of his spare time in that ancient city, and that his home at
those visits was usually at the episcopal residence.
Tom and Eleen had met at McLaren's wedding, and it did not take long for
the old, old story to find a place in their lives. Of course anyone from
America who was acquainted with their son was welcomed by the bishop and
his wife. But knowing the intimate relations existing between these two,
Tom was made doubly welcome. Besides this, Tom had developed into a
splendid man in both body and mind. He was six feet high and well
proportioned. He had inherited a healthy constitution, lived a clean and
natural life, and was in the best sense a handsome man, one whom in
passing you would incline to glance at a second time. He soon became
quite popular at Heidelberg with both lecturers and students, so when he
visited Barnard's Castle, the family of Grandpa Sparrow, received Billy's
son with open arms and hearts. The unsophisticated old people just sat
and looked at him and listened to his words about his father and mother,
and the great farm which he was operating so successfully. Cliff Farm was
a little more than a mile from Barnard's Castle, and as Elder Sparrow was
very popular with the people, many of them came to see Billy's son, both
young men and maidens, and many a delightful time they had together.
Though gifted with personal grace of person, Tom's real attractiveness
was his naturalness. He was just as simple and natural as when, years
ago, he went to the warehouse and talked to God about Carl. And so, now
at twenty-one, he had a pleasant greeting and a happy word for everyone.
The young girls were charmed and the young men listened admiringly. He
talked to the young farmers about farming. Horses, breeds of cows, sheep
hogs, fertilizers, until the young men went away feeling that they knew
but little about real farming.
The aged rector of Ascension Church, who had known Billy when a child,
came to Cliff Farm to see Billy's son. He likewise knew something of the
Monastery, and more about Bishop Albertson, with whom he had been
associated in his collegiate days at Oxford. The aged clergyman was much
interested in the curriculum at Monastery University, and perhaps no one
was better able to satisfy his quest than Tom. Tom might safely have
written, if such had been his ambition, "Veni, vidi vici," but nothing
of this spirit inspired this young man of nature; and perhaps while he
would not have been adjudged a remarkable scholar, yet he was an
encyclopedia of general information, and out of the fullness of a healthy
heart and memory his mouth spoke to the edification and enjoyment of all
who heard him.
We have said that Tom was not a remarkable scholar; yet he was a scholar,
he was cyclopaedic. He had a general knowledge, and never forgot
anything. He was an unconscious student all the time.
But his attractiveness was not in his scholarship, but in his heart and
character. He possessed and was actuated by an unselfish and clean heart
and a pure conscience. He did not need to write upon his hat, I am a
Christian. The Golden Rule was the standard of his life and he was hardly
conscious of it.