A young man was driving down the road to Rykman 's Corner ; the youthful face visible above the greatcoat was thoughtful and refined , the eyes deep blue and peculiarly beautiful , the mouth firm yet sensitive . It was not a handsome face , but there was a strangely subtle charm about it . The chill breathlessness of the air seemed prophetic of more snow . The Reverend Allan Telford looked across the bare wastes and cold white hills and shivered , as if the icy lifelessness about him were slowly and relentlessly creeping into his own heart and life . He felt utterly discouraged . In his soul he was asking bitterly what good had come of all his prayerful labours among the people of this pinched , narrow world , as rugged and unbeautiful in form and life as the barren hills that shut them in . He had been two years among them and he counted it two years of failure . He had been too outspoken for them ; they resented sullenly his direct and incisive tirades against their pet sins . They viewed his small innovations on their traditional ways of worship with disfavour and distrust and shut him out of their lives with an ever-increasing coldness . He had meant well and worked hard and he felt his failure keenly . His thoughts reverted to a letter received the preceding day from a former classmate , stating that the pastorate of a certain desirable town church had become vacant and hinting that a call was to be moderated for him unless he signified his unwillingness to accept . Two years before , Allan Telford , fresh from college and full of vigorous enthusiasm and high ideas , would have said : `` No , that is not for me . My work must lie among the poor and lowly of earth as did my Master 's . Shall I shrink from it because , to worldly eyes , the way looks dreary and uninviting ? '' Now , looking back on his two years ' ministry , he said wearily : `` I can remain here no longer . If I do , I fear I shall sink down into something almost as pitiful as one of these canting , gossiping people myself . I can do them no good -- they do not like or trust me . I will accept this call and go back to my own world . '' Perhaps the keynote of his failure was sounded in his last words , `` my own world . '' He had never felt , or tried to feel , that this narrow sphere was his own world .
It was some lower level XXXXX which he had come with good tidings and honest intentions but , unconsciously , he had held himself above it , and his people felt and resented this .
If In about above across as from into that to