“They did not do me justice. I did not look for justice at their hands. But you, Phyllis----” “I have read your book now, Mr. Holland----” “Ah, let me plead with you, Phyllis--not ‘Mr. Holland,’ I entreat of you.” “And my first thought on reading it was that I had not written to you so strongly as I should have done.” “My dear Phyllis, do not say that, I beg of you. You cannot know how you pain me.” “To be misunderstood by you--_you_.” She got upon her feet so quickly that it might almost be said she sprang up. “_You_ must have misunderstood _me_ greatly, Mr. Holland, if you fancied that you could write such a book as you wrote and not get such a letter from me. The Bible--Ruth--and you a clergyman--reading it daily in the church----Oh! I cannot tell you all that I thought--all that I still think.” He did not correct the mistake she had made. She had no right to accuse him of reading the Bible daily in his church. He was not in the habit of doing that--it was his curates who did it. He watched her as she stood at a window with her back turned to him. Her hands were behind her. Her breath came audibly, for she had spoken excitedly. Then he also rose and came beside her. “I wrote that book, as I believed you would perceive when you had read it, in order to remove from the minds of the people--those people who have not given the matter a thought--the impression--I know it prevails--that our faith--the truth of our religion--is dependent upon the acceptance as good of such persons as our very religion itself enables us to pronounce evil. My aim was to show that our faith is not built upon such a foundation of impurity--of imperfection. The spirit which prevails nowadays--the modern spirit--it is the result of the development of science. This scientific spirit necessitates the consideration of all the elements of our faith from the standpoint of reason.” “Faith--reason?”