Reverend Dr. Frank Prescott, founder and recently retired rector of the venerable all-boys school Justin Martyr, has been taking a walk with his young protege, the convalescent Brian Aspinwall. They were walking along the river, near the home of Dr. Prescott’s daughter, where, at Dr. Prescott’s insistence, Brian is residing while he returns to health. Dr. Prescott is not merely presiding over a younger man’s recovery from pneumonia; he is successfully speaking new life into Brian’s troubled soul and weakened faith.
Leaning forward in the black and white armchair, I slowly close the back cover of The Rector of Justin, with whom I have spent much of the last day. It is fiercely cold outside and I can see the wind whipping violently through the bare trees and tall weeds of the seemingly endless snow-covered fields. The windows of my room groan with every gust.