used for a new cathedral. She wondered if the Anns of
her uncle's city would find the world a safer or a sweeter place after
that cathedral had been erected. She thought of Ann's world of the opera
and world of work. Was it true--as the man who mended the boats would
hold--that the one made the other possible--only to be excluded from it?
And all the while there swept before her faces--faces seen in the crowd,
faces of those who were not finding what they wanted, faces of all those
to whom life denied life. And then Katie thought of a man who had lived &
long time before, a man of whom her uncle spoke lovingly in his sermons
as Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God. She thought of Ann's
father--how far he had gone from a religion of love. Then came back to
her lovable uncle. Well, what of him?

Charm of personality, a sense of humor, a comfortable view of living (for
himself and his kind) did not seem the final word.

"Uncle," Katie asked quietly, "do you ever think much about Christ?"

In his astonishment the Bishop dropped his cigar.

"What a strange man he must have been," she murmured.

"Kindly explain yourself," said he curtly.

"He seemed to think so much about people. Just people. And chiefly people
who were down on their luck. I don't believe he would have been much good
at raising money. He had such a queer way of going around where people
worked, talking with them about their work. If he were here now, and were
to do that, I wonder if he'd help much in 'stemming the rising tide of
socialism' What a blessing it is for our institutions," Katie concluded,
"that he's not anywhere around."

The Bishop's hand shook. "I had not expected," he said, "that my own
niece, my favorite niece--indeed, the favorite member of my family--was
here to--revile me."

"Uncle--forgive me! But isn't it bigger than that thing of being members
of the same family--hurting each other's feelings? Oh uncle!" she burst
forth, no longer able to hold back, "as you stand sometimes at the altar
don't you hear them moaning and sobbing down underneath?"

He looked at her sharply, with some alarm.

"Oh no," she laughed, "not going crazy. Just trying to think a little
about things. But don't you ever hear them, uncle? I should think they
might--bother you sometimes."

"Really, Katherine," he said stiffly, "this is most--annoying. Hear whom
moaning and sobbing?"

"Those people! The worn out shop girls and broken down men and women