ions of twilight, and gradually drawing nearer to
the centre, from which he had never taken his eyes. At the centre
were Eldon Parr and Charlotte Gore. Wallis Plimpton had made himself
indispensable to both.

His campaign for the daughter of Thurston Gore had been comparable
to one of the great sieges of history, for Mr. Plimpton was a
laughing-stock when he sat down before that fortress. At the end of ten
years, Charlotte had capitulated, with a sigh of relief, realizing at
last her destiny. She had become slightly stout, revealing, as time went
on, no wrinkles--a proof that the union was founded on something more
enduring than poetry: Statesmanship--that was the secret! Step by step,
slowly but surely, the memoranda in that matrimonial portfolio were
growing into accomplished facts; all events, such as displacements of
power, were foreseen; and the Plimptons, like Bismarck, had only to
indicate, in case of sudden news, the pigeonhole where the plan of any
particular campaign was filed.

Mrs. Larrabbee's temptation to be witty at the expense of those for
whom she had no liking had led Hodder to discount the sketch. He had not
disliked Mr. Plimpton, who had done him many little kindnesses. He was
good-natured, never ruffled, widely tolerant, hail-fellow-well-met with
everybody, and he had enlivened many a vestry meeting with his stories.
It were hypercritical to accuse him of a lack of originality. And if by
taking thought, he had arrived, from nowhere, at his present position
of ease and eminence, success had not turned to ashes in his mouth. He
fairly exhaled well-being, happiness, and good cheer. Life had gone well
with him, he wished the same to others.

But to-night, from his corner, Hodder seemed to see Mr. Plimpton with
new eyes. Not that he stood revealed a villain, which he was far from
being; it was the air of sophistication, of good-natured if cynical
acceptance of things as they were--and plenty good enough, too!--that
jarred upon the rector in his new mood, and it was made manifest to him
as never before why his appeals from the pulpit had lacked efficacy.
Mr. Plimpton didn't want the world changed! And in this desire he
represented the men in that room, and the majority of the congregation
of St. John's. The rector had felt something of this before, and it
seemed to him astonishing that the revelation had not come to him
sooner. Did any one of them, in his heart, care anything for the ideals
and aspirat