"It certainly is," confirmed the colleague.
"Besides," Strathmore added emphatically, rising as he spoke, "the deepest need of any time can be met only by a church which is in sympathy with the tendencies of the time."
"You put it admirably," the other murmured.
Strathmore regarded him keenly, almost as if he suspected some hidden thought behind the words.
"It is time for us to go," he said in his usual genial tone.
The two clergymen left the house and went down the street together, talking of parish business, until they came to the street-corner where they were to take a car. As they stood waiting for this conveyance, a lady came quickly forward and spoke to Mr. Strathmore, who greeted her cordially, expressing much pleasure in seeing her.
"You were so kind to me," she said. "I have been thinking of all you said to me last week, and it seems to me that I can bear my burden better. I want to thank you with all my heart."
"There is nothing to thank me for," he answered with grave tenderness.
"The blessing is mine if I have been able to help you."
"But there was no one else," she said, tears springing in her eyes, "that I could have talked to so freely. You understood and sympathized. It was like talking to a brother."
He took her hand with an air perfectly unaffected and unobtrusive, yet which was almost paternal in its benignity. Her look was one almost of reverence as she hurried on her way with bowed head.