ould be
useless and painful to all concerned, and he infinitely regretted the
necessity of putting his suggestion that the rector resign in the form of
a resolution . . . . The vote was taken. Six men raised their hands
in favour of his resignation--Nelson Langmaid among them: two, Asa Waring
and Philip Goodrich, were against it. After announcing the result,
Hodder rose.

"For the reason I have stated, gentlemen, I decline to resign," he said.
"I stand upon my canonical rights."

Francis Ferguson arose, his voice actually trembling with anger. There
is something uncanny in the passion of a man whose life has been ordered
by the inexorable rules of commerce, who has been wont to decide all
questions from the standpoint of dollars and cents. If one of his own
wax models had suddenly become animated, the effect could not have been
more startling.

In the course of this discussion, he declared, Mr. Hodder had seen fit to
make grave and in his opinion unwarranted charges concerning the lives of
some, if not all, of the gentlemen who sat here. It surprised him that
these remarks had not been resented, but he praised a Christian
forbearance on the part of his colleagues which he was unable to achieve.
He had no doubt that their object had been to spare Mr. Hodder's feelings
as much as possible, but Mr. Hodder had shown no disposition to spare
their own. He had outraged them, Mr. Ferguson thought,--wantonly so.
He had made these preposterous and unchristian charges an excuse for his
determination to remain in a position where his usefulness had ceased.

No one, unfortunately, was perfect in this life,--not even Mr. Hodder.
He, Francis Ferguson, was far from claiming to be so. But he believed
that this arraignment of the men who stood highest in the city for
decency, law, and order, who supported the Church, who revered its
doctrines, who tried to live Christian lives, who gave their time and
their money freely to it and to charities, that this arraignment was an
arrogant accusation and affront to be repudiated. He demanded that Mr.
Hodder be definite. If he had any charges to make, let him make them
here and now.

The consternation, the horror which succeeded such a stupid and
unexpected tactical blunder on the part of the usually astute
Mr. Ferguson were felt rather than visually discerned. The atmosphere
might have been described as panicky. Asa Waring and Phil Goodrich
smiled as Wallis Plimpton, after a moment's hush,