e, 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, scrambled to his feet, his
face pale, his customary easiness and nonchalance now the result of an
obvious effort. He, too, tried to smile, but swallowed instead as he
remembered his property in Dalton Street.... Nelson Langmaid smiled,
in spite of himself... Mr. Plimpton implored his fellow-members not to
bring personalities into the debate, and he was aware all the while of
the curious, pitying expression of the rector. He breathed a sigh of
relief at the opening words of Hodder, who followed him.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I have no intention of being personal, even
by unanimous consent. But if Mr. Ferguson will come to me after this
meeting I shall have not the least objection to discussing this matter
with him in so far as he himself is concerned. I can only assure you now
that I have not spoken without warrant."

There was, oddly enough, no acceptance of this offer by Mr. Ferguson.
Another silence ensued, broken, at last, by a voice for which they had
all been unconsciously waiting; a voice which, though unemotional, cold,
and matter-of-fact, was nevertheless commanding, and long accustomed to
speak with an overwhelming authority. Eldon Parr did not rise.

"Mr. Hodder," he said, "in one respect seems to be under the delusion
that we are still in the Middle Ages, instead of the twentieth century,
since he assumes the right to meddle with the lives of his parishioners,
to be the sole judge of their actions. That assumption will not, be
tolerated by free men. I, for one, gentlemen, do not, propose to have a
socialist for the rector of the church which I attend and support. And
I maintain the privilege of an American citizen to set my own standards,
within the law, and to be the sole arbitrar of those standards."

"Good!" muttered Gordon Atterbury. Langmaid moved uncomfortably.

"I shall not waste words," the financier continued. "There is in my
mind no question that we are justified in demanding from our rector the
Christian doctrines to which we have given our assent, and which are
stated in the Creeds. That they shall be subject to the whims of the
rector is beyond argum