that with Jacqueline's singing, the Lord had indeed entered into His
holy temple.

Presently he spoke to them as he would have spoken to his Sunday-school
classes at home, earnestly and very simply, with none of the
condescending blandness of the elder. Some of their homely phrases,
their very accent, had crept unconsciously into his speech, a remnant of
the impressionable days when he had lived for a while among mountain
folk. Jacqueline realized that this unconscious adaptability was the
secret of his hold on people, of their confiding trust in him. Whatever
they might be, he was for the moment one of them, looking at their
temptations, their failures, never from the outside but from their own
point of view.

Brother Bates, a little worried at first by the mildness of his
protege's voice and manner, realized after a few moments the
people were listening to him as they had never listened to the
hell-fire-and-damnation preachers of their previous experience. Not a
man in that room, including Percival Channing, escaped the somewhat
uncomfortable feeling that the text, "Do unto others as ye would be done
by," had been chosen particularly for his benefit--which is perhaps the
secret of great preaching.

Jacqueline, gazing about with great pride in her friend, saw that not
only was the room crowded with listeners, but that others were standing
outside in the porch. One profile, outlined for a few moments against a
window, attracted her attention by contrast with those about it; an
elderly face, worn by evident illness or suffering, sensitive and
intelligent and refined, despite the gray stubble of beard on his cheeks
and the rough flannel collar about his throat. Jacqueline watched him
curiously, until her gaze drew his and he suddenly disappeared.

"He looked almost like a gentleman," she thought. "I wonder why he did
not come inside?"

Her mind reverted to this man more than once.

When they were on their way back up the moonlit trail, she and Channing
lingering behind the others, an explanation suddenly struck her.

"The non-believing school teacher, of course!" she exclaimed. "Ashamed
to be caught listening to 'the Word of God.' Well, he may not be
interested in the Word of God," she added musingly, "but he certainly
was interested in the word of Philip. Never took his eye off Phil's
face!"

Channing had taken her hand, which turned and clung to his with its
usual nestling gesture. Now he put his arm around