"Yes," replied Philip. "You did not expect me to act on your advice so soon?"
"My advice?" The question came in a hesitating tone. "Did I advise you to move? Ah, yes, I remember!" A light like supremest reason flashed over the man's face, and then died out. "Yes, yes; you are beginning to live on your simpler basis. You are doing as you preach. That must feel good."
"Yes," replied Philip, "it does feel good. Do you think, Brother Man, that this will help to solve the problem?"
"What problem?"
"Why, the problem of the church and the people—winning them, saving them."
"Are your church members moving out of their elegant houses and coming down here to live?" The old man asked the question in utmost simplicity.
"No; I did not ask them."
"You ought to."
"What! Do you believe my people ought literally to leave their possessions and live among the people?"
Philip could not help asking the question, and all the time he was conscious of a strange absurdity mingled with an unaccountable respect for his visitor, and his opinion.