“And those consoling words are what I would read to the people every day of the week, not the words which may have a certain historical signification, but which breathe a very different spirit from the spirit of Christianity. Phyllis, it is to be the aim of my life to help on the great work of making the Church once more the Church of the people—of making it in reality the exponent of Christianity and Judaism. That is my aim, and I want you to be my helper in this work.”
“And I tell you that I shall oppose you by all the means in my power, paltry though my power may be.”
Her eyes were flashing and she made a little automatic motion with her hands, as if sweeping something away from before her. He had become pale and there was a light in his eyes. He felt angry at this girl who had shown herself ready to argue with him,—in her girlish fashion, of course,—and who, after listening to his incontrovertible arguments, fell back resolutely upon a platitude, and considered that she had got the better of him.
She had got the better of him, too; that was the worst of it; his object in going to her, in arguing with her, was to induce her to promise to marry him, and he had failed.
It was on this account he was angry. He might have had a certain consciousness of succeeding as a theologian, but he had undoubtedly failed as a lover. He was angry. He was as little accustomed as other clergymen to be withstood by a girl.
“I am disappointed in you,” said he. “I fancied that when I—when I——” It was in his mind to say that he had selected her out of a large number of candidates to be his helpmeet, but he pulled himself up in time, and the pause that he made seemed purely emotional. “When I loved you and got your promise to love me in return, you would share with me all the glory, the persecution, the work incidental to this crusade on behalf of the truth, but now——Ah! you can never have loved me.”
“Perhaps you are right, indeed,” said she meekly. She was ready to cede him this point if he set any store by it.
“Take care,” said he, with some measure of sternness. “Take care, if you fancy you love another man, that he may be worthy of you.”
“I do not love another man, Mr. Holland,” said she gently; scarcely regretfully.
“Do you not?” said he, with equal gentleness. “Then I will hope.”