"If it were for any one else," murmured Gus, his face growing a deeper crimson.
Mr. Mouncey caught the words, and fancied he understood what they signified. He knew well how Philip Darnell was regarded by his work-people. The things that were said of him, and even the opprobrious epithets that some of his workmen did not hesitate to apply to him, had reached the ear of the vicar. He was far from holding Philip Darnell blameless in his conduct towards his work-people; but he had no sympathy with the feelings some of them were beginning to evince.
"Come, Gus," he said, rather sharply, "what foolish notion have you in your head? What can it matter to you for whom you work? The thing you have to see to is that you do your work well and nobly, remembering that you serve, not this master or that, but the Lord Christ."
But Gus looked troubled still.
"Mr. Mouncey," he asked presently, "did you ever have an enemy?"
"An enemy!" repeated Mr. Mouncey, a gleam of amusement lighting up his bright, open face. "Why, no, Gus, I do not believe I have ever had what you could call an enemy. I have created ill-will towards myself many a time by the things I have felt obliged to do; but the feeling has soon died away. No, I never had a downright enemy. What made you think of such a thing?"
Instead of replying to this question, Gus asked another.
"Suppose you had an enemy, sir; would you be willing to work for him?"
"Certainly I would serve him, Gus, in any way that I could. If I knew that a man was my enemy, I would do my utmost to change him into a friend. That is the Christian way. What did Jesus say? 'Love your enemies.' It is not hard to serve those whom we love."
"No, but it's hard to love those who have done us wrong," said Gus thoughtfully.