You have thrown in your fortunes with an impractical zealot, and he has led you into dangerous paths. I want to rescue you. That is my mission to you to-day."
"To rescue me? From what?"
"From the disaster that is bound very soon to overtake the rector of Christ Church and all his visionary schemes. From the gossip of evil-minded persons who have linked your name with his."
"Philip!"
"Forgive me! I had to say it. There was no one else to tell you."
"Philip! Have you believed it of me?"
"No, dear, no." He dropped into the old, affectionate way of speaking to her, but she did not dream of chiding him. "You have been absolutely blameless," he continued. "I have already told you so. But it is time now for you to stop and count the cost. I do not ask you to do it for my sake. I ask you to do it for your own; for the sake of your father who grieves over you; for the sake of your mother who is almost distracted."
She did not answer his appeal; perhaps she did not hear it; but she questioned him again:
"Philip, do you charge Mr. Farrar with any evil thought or motive?"
Even as she spoke her cheeks were reddened anew from the memories of the hour just passed.
"I am here to save you," he replied, "not to condemn him."
"But I want an answer. Has he been guilty of anything, within your knowledge, unbecoming a minister and a gentleman?"
"I am not here to smirch his reputation."
"What is it that he has done?"
"I do not care to tell you."
"That is cowardly, Philip. I have a right to know. If your solicitude for me is genuine you will tell me.
