iend Asa Waring--a strangely contrasted type. The
uncompromising eyes of a born leader of men flashed from beneath the
heavy white eyebrows, the button of the Legion of Honour gleaming in
his well-kept coat seemed emblematic of the fire which in his youth had
driven him forth to fight for the honour of his country--a fire still
undimmed. It was he who spoke first.

"This is a day I never expected to see, Mr. Hodder," he said, "for it
has brought back to this church the man to whom it owes its existence.
Mr. Bentley did more, by his labour and generosity, his true
Christianity, his charity and his wisdom, for St. John's than any other
individual. It is you who have brought him back, and I wish personally
to express my gratitude."

Mr. Bentley, in mild reproof, laid his hand upon the t, shoulder of his
old friend.

"Ah, Asa," he protested, "you shouldn't say such things."

"Had it not been for Mr. Bentley," Hodder explained, "I should not be
here to-day."

Asa Waring pierced the rector with his eye, appreciating the genuine
feeling with which these words were spoken. And yet his look contained a
question.

"Mr. Bentley," Hodder added, "has been my teacher this summer."

The old gentleman's hand trembled a little on the goldheaded stick.

"It is a matter of more pride to me than I can express, sir, that you
are the rector of this church with which my most cherished memories are
associated," he said. "But I cannot take any part of the credit you give
me for the splendid vision which you have raised up before us to-day,
for your inspired interpretation of history, of the meaning of our own
times. You have moved me, you have given me more hope and courage than
I have had for many a long year--and I thank you, Mr. Hodder. I am
sure that God will prosper and guide you in what you have so nobly
undertaken."

Mr. Bentley turned away, walking towards the end of the room.... Asa
Waring broke the silence.

"I didn't know that you knew him, that you had seen what he is
doing--what he has done in this city. I cannot trust myself, Mr. Hodder,
to speak of Horace Bentley's life... I feel too strongly on the subject.
I have watched, year by year, this detestable spirit of greed, this lust
for money and power creeping over our country, corrupting our people and
institutions, and finally tainting the Church itself. You have raised
your voice against it, and I respect and honour and thank you for it,
the more because you have do