Mr. Ayrton also seemed to perceive a sort of cleverness in the sermon. There was nothing in it that was calculated to shock even the most susceptible hearer. Indeed, it seemed to Mr. Ayrton that there was a good deal in it that was calculated to soothe the nerves of those who had been shocked by the book. He said something to this effect to his daughter as they walked homeward. He was rather anxious to find out what chance George Holland had of being restored to his daughter’s favor.
But Phyllis was firm in her condemnation of the methods of Mr. Holland.
“He attacks the Jews as a race in order to ridicule the statement in the Bible that they were God’s chosen people, and they were, you know, papa,” she said.
“They took so much for granted themselves, at any rate,” said her father, with some show of acquiescence.
“But they were, and they are to be restored to their own land,” said Phyllis.
“Are they, my dear? I should like to see the prospectus of that enterprise.”
“You are mocking, papa. They are to be restored; it says so in the Bible quite clearly.”
“I am not mocking, Phyllis. If gold is discovered in Palestine, the Jews may go there in some numbers; but, take my word for it, they won’t go otherwise. They couldn’t live in their own land, assuming that it is their own, which is going pretty far. Palestine wouldn’t support all the Jews alive at present; it’s a wretched country—I know it well. Besides, they don’t want to return to it, and furthermore, we couldn’t spare them.”
“I believe in the Bible, and I have faith,” said Phyllis firmly.
“That’s right,” said her father. “I hope you may always hold to both. I think that those girls who expect to be regarded as advanced, because they scoff at the Bible and at faith, are quite horrid. I also hope that you will not eventually marry an infidel.”