ctor's advent, and Mr. Engel had accompanied
them on a tour of inspection; the financier himself had enjoined the
librarian to "take good care" of the clergyman. Mr. Waring, Mr.
Atterbury; and Mr. Constable were likewise trustees. And since then,
when talking to him, Hodder had had a feeling that Mr. Engel was not
unconscious of the aura--if it may be called such--of his vestry.

Mr. Engel picked up one of the books as it lay on the counter, and as he
read the title his face betrayed a slight surprise.

"Modern criticism!" he exclaimed.

"You have found me out," the rector acknowledged, smiling.

"Came into my room, and have a chat," said the librarian, coaxingly.

It was a large chamber at the corner of the building, shaded by awnings,
against which brushed the branches of an elm which had belonged to the
original park. In the centre of the room was a massive oak desk, one
whole side of which was piled high with new volumes.

"Look there," said the librarian, with a quick wave of his hand, "those
are some which came in this week, and I had them put here to look over.
Two-thirds of 'em on religion, or religious philosophy. Does that
suggest anything to you clergymen?"

"Do many persons read them, Mr. Engel?" said the rector, at length.

"Read them!" cried Mr. Engel, quizzically. "We librarians are a sort of
weather-vanes, if people only knew enough to consult us. We can hardly
get a sufficient number of these new religious books the good ones,
I mean--to supply the demand. And the Lord knows what trash is devoured,
from what the booksellers tell me. It reminds me of the days when this
library was down on Fifth Street, years ago, and we couldn't supply
enough Darwins and Huxleys and Spencers and popular science generally.
That was an agnostic age. But now you'd be surprised to see the
different kinds of men and women who come demanding books on religion
--all sorts and conditions. They're beginning to miss it out of their
lives; they want to know. If my opinion's worth anything, I should not
hesitate to declare that we're on the threshold of a greater religious
era than the world has ever seen."

Hodder thrust a book back into the pile, and turned abruptly, with a
manner that surprised the librarian. No other clergyman to whom he had
spoken on this subject had given evidence of this strong feeling, and the
rector of St. John's was the last man from whom he would have expected
it.

"Do you really think so?" Hod