ts that were sorer than he had suspected. Her calm disdain
was like an acid, dissolving away the crust of unimportant occupation
and meticulous conformity which had protected his ideals from the
corruptive action of reality. He shivered, figuratively, at the
revelation.

One of her mordant phrases was poignantly clear. Again and again it
recurred to him, always with a question attached. He tried to dismiss
it, and could not. She had called him "too much of a clergyman--not
enough of a man." As he walked home, he analysed its meaning, and tried
to disguise it in sophistries. But the intellectual honesty which was
his at base, forbade. The meaning was far too manifest. And at intervals
through the week, he strove to force his thoughts into an effective
answer. But always there was failure at the end.

Of course such charges as she had made to him were not new. The
literature of the day was full of them. But hitherto he had been able to
keep his defences intact. When his own logic failed him, there was
always the logic of his schooling and of his contemporaries upon which
to fall back. But for such heresies to spring from Judith--that was
treachery within the gates. He resented it bitterly, and he was appalled
as the weapons so strong in the past now crumpled in his hands.

A whisper grew louder and louder in his soul, a question sounded more
and more relentlessly. And when it would brook no more delay,
reluctantly, sick at heart, and filled with fear at the outcome, he
hauled down his flag of truce and gave the devil battle.

It was well after midnight of Saturday when the last gun was fired, and
the struggle was over. With lips compressed, and brow furrowed, and with
his tongue parched by the pipes he had smoked, Imrie capitulated.

On the morrow he would put his life to the test.

But when he stood in the pulpit and faced his congregation, awaiting him
with courteous expectancy, as it had waited so often, his heart
well-nigh failed him. Slowly he let his eyes rove over the throng,
brilliant in costume, exuding the indefinable aroma of power and luxury.
These men and women of St. Viateur's were the cream of the community. It
was no small thing to be the shepherd of such a flock. The silence grew
oppressive, while he hesitated. He seemed to look for someone. Finally
he found what he sought. His face hardened and his teeth clicked so
sharply that those in the pews near at hand could almost hear the sound.
Judith was