“And so it must be ‘Good-bye,’ Davie?”
“Good-bye?” repeated David. “I don’t understand?”
“You are to take one way and I another; so we part company.”
David was silent from astonishment.
“As our fathers did,” said Philip. “They were friends once, as we are, Davie, but their paths divided, as ours must, I fear.”
“It need not be so.”
“It is curious to think of it,” went on Philip. “If my father were to die to-night, he would leave his children as poor as your father left his when he died. Not that it would matter; but then my father has lost his whole life, too. No, Davie, I fear the end will be that we must go different ways.”
“Dear Philip,” said David, standing before him, and speaking with much earnestness, “there is only one thing that can separate us—your serving one master and I another; and that need not be. Your work may be as much for Him as mine. Philip, dear friend—is He your Lord and Master, as He is mine?”
Philip shook his head.
“I do not know. I fear not, Davie. What am I saying? I know He is not. I have never done a stroke of work for Him, or for any one at His bidding, or for His sake, and that is the whole truth, Davie.”