and hold the fact that the woman he had so intensely desired was
now his helpmate; and had, of her own freewill, united herself with him.
A strong sense of the dignity of their relationship alone prevented his
calling her on the telephone--as it doubtless had prevented her. While
she remained in her father's house, he could not...

In the little room next to the office several persons were waiting to
see him. But as he went downstairs he halted on the landing, his hand
going to his forehead, a reflex movement significant of a final attempt
to achieve the hitherto unattainable feat of imagining her as his wife.
If he might only speak to her again--now, this morning! And yet he
knew that he needed no confirmation. The reality was there, in the
background; and though refusing to come forward to be touched, it had
already grafted itself as an actual and vital part of his being, never
to be eliminated.

Characteristically perfecting his own ideal, she had come to him in the
hour when his horizon had been most obscure. And he experienced now an
exultation, though solemn and sacred, that her faith had so far been
rewarded in the tidings he now confided to the messenger. He was not, as
yet, to be driven out from the task, to be deprived of the talent, the
opportunity intrusted to him by Lord--the emancipation of the parish of
St. John's.

The first to greet him, when he entered his office, was one who, unknown
to himself, had been fighting the battle of the God in Christ, and
who now, thanks to John Hodder, had identified the Spirit as the
transforming force. Bedloe Hubbell had come to offer his services to the
Church. The tender was unqualified.

"I should even be willing, Mr. Hodder," he said with a smile, "to
venture occasionally into a pulpit. You have not only changed my
conception of religion, but you have made it for me something which I
can now speak about naturally."

Hodder was struck by the suggestion.

"Ah, we shall need the laymen in the pulpits, Mr. Hubbell," he said
quickly. "A great spiritual movement must be primarily a lay movement.
And I promise you you shall not lack for opportunity."

III

At nine o'clock that evening, when a reprieve came, Hodder went out.
Anxiety on the score of Kate Marcy, as well as a desire to see Mr.
Bentley and tell him of the conversation with the bishop, directed his
steps toward Dalton Street. And Hodder had, indeed, an intention of
confiding to his friend, as one em