vulgar. But when he was
roused as he was now he spoke with a total disregard for all coming
consequences. For the time being he felt as perhaps one of the old
Hebrew prophets used to feel when the flame of inspired wrath burned up
in the soul of the messenger of God.

The man who sat opposite was compelled to keep silent until Philip had
said what he had to say. It was impossible for him to interrupt. Also it
was out of the question that a man like Mr. Winter should understand a
nature like that of Philip Strong. The mill-owner sprang to his feet as
soon as Philip finished. He was white to the lips with passion, and so
excited that his hands trembled and his voice shook as he replied to
Philip:

"You shall answer for these insults, sir. I withdraw my church pledge,
and you will see whether the business men in the church will sustain
such preaching." And Mr. Winter flung himself out of the study and
downstairs, forgetting to take his hat, which he had carried up with
him. Philip caught it up and went downstairs with it, reaching him just
as he was going out of the front door. He said simply, "You forgot your
hat, sir." Mr. Winter took it without a word and went out, slamming the
door hard behind him.

Philip turned around, and there stood his wife. Her face was very
anxious.

"Tell me all about it, Philip," she said. Sunday evening they had talked
over the fact of Mr. Winter's walking out of the church during the
service, and had anticipated some trouble. Philip related the facts of
Mr. Winter's visit, telling his wife some things the mill-owner had
said.

"What did you say, Philip, to make him so angry? Did you give him a
piece of your mind?"

"I gave him the whole of it," replied Philip, somewhat grimly--"at least
all of it on that particular subject that he could stand."

"Oh, dear! It seems too bad to have this trouble come so soon! What will
Mr. Winter do? He is very wealthy and influential. Do you think--are you
sure that in this matter you have done just right, just for the best,
Philip? It is going to be very unpleasant for you."

"Well, Sarah, I would not do differently from what I have done. What
have I done? I have simply preached God's truth, as I plainly see it, to
my church. And if I do not do that, what business have I in the ministry
at all? I regret this personal encounter with Mr. Winter; but I don't
see how I could avoid it."

"Did you lose your temper?"

"No."

"There was some very lou