"But we must. You must consider what the result will be if you are seen with me--with Grace and me." She caught herself quickly. "Can the pastor of Memorial Church afford to associate with two women of such doubtful reputation? What will your church think?" She was smiling as she spoke, but beneath the smile there was much of earnestness. She was determined that he should know how well she understood his position. She wondered if he himself understood it. "You see you will need to find a way out for yourself," she insisted. "I am not looking for a way out," he growled. "Ah, but you should. You must consider your influence. Consider the great harm your interest in Grace Conner will do your church. You must remember your position in the community. You cannot afford to--to risk your reputation." Under her skillfully chosen words, he again assumed an air of indignant reserve. She saw his hands clench, and the great muscles in his arms and shoulders swell. Unconsciously--or was it unconsciously?--she had repeated almost the exact words of Elder Jordan. The stock argument sounded strange coming from her. Deliberately she went on. "Really there is no reason why you should suffer from this. It is not necessary for you to continue our little friendship. You can stay on the other side of the fence. I--we will understand. You have too much at stake. You--" He interrupted. "Miss Farwell, I don't know what you think of me that you can say these things. I had hoped that you were beginning to look upon me as a man, not merely as a preacher. I had even dared think that our friendship was growing to be something more than just a little friendly acquaintance. If I am mistaken, I will stay on the other side of the fence. If I am right--if you do care for my friendship," he finished slowly, "I will try to serve my people faithfully, but I will not willingly shape my life by their foolish, wicked whims. Denny's garden may get along without me, and you may not need what you call 'our little friendship' but I need Denny's garden, and--I need you." Her face shone with gladness. "Forgive me," she said. "I only wished to be sure that you understood some things clearly." At her rather vague words, he said, "I am beginning to understand a good many things." "And understanding, you will still come to--" she smiled, "to work in Denny's garden?" "Yes," he answered with a boyish laugh, "just as if there were no other place in all the world where I could get a job." She watched him as he swung down the walk, through the gate and away up the street under the big trees. And as she watched him, she recalled his words, "I need you;--just as though there were no other place in all the world." The words repeated themselves in her mind. How much did they mean, she wondered. CHAPTER XXV. A LABORER AND HIS HIRE