der demanded.

"Why, yes," said Mr. Engel, when he had recovered from his astonishment.
"I'm sure of it. I think clergymen especially--if you will pardon me
--are apt to forget that this is a reading age. That a great many people
who used to get what instruction they had--ahem--from churches, for
instance, now get it from books. I don't want to say anything to offend
you, Mr. Hodder--"

"You couldn't," interrupted the rector. He was equally surprised at the
discovery that he had misjudged Mr. Engel, and was drawn towards him now
with a strong sympathy and curiosity.

"Well," replied Mr. Engel, "I'm glad to hear you say that." He
restrained a gasp. Was this the orthodox Mr. Hodder of St. John's?

"Why," said Hodder, sitting down, "I've learned, as you have, by
experience. Only my experience hasn't been so hopeful as yours--that is,
if you regard yours as hopeful. It would be hypocritical of me not to
acknowledge that the churches are losing ground, and that those who ought
to be connected with them are not. I am ready to admit that the churches
are at fault. But what you tell me of people reading these books gives
me more courage than I have had for--for some time."

"Is it so!" ejaculated the little man, relapsing into the German idiom of
his youth.

"It is," answered the rector, with an emphasis not to be denied. "I wish
you would give me your theory about this phenomenon, and speak frankly."

"But I thought--" the bewildered librarian began. "I saw you had been
reading those books, but I thought--"

"Naturally you did," said Holder, smiling. His personality, his
ascendency, his poise, suddenly felt by the other, were still more
confusing. "You thought me a narrow, complacent, fashionable priest who
had no concern as to what happened outside the walls of his church, who
stuck obstinately to dogmas and would give nothing else a hearing. Well,
you were right."

"Ah, I didn't think all that," Mr. Engel protested, and his parchment
skin actually performed the miracle of flushing. "I am not so stupid.
And once, long ago when I was young, I was going to be a minister
myself."

"What prevented you?" asked Holder, interested.

"You want me to be frank--yes, well, I couldn't take the vows." The
brown eyes of the quiet, humorous, self-contained and dried-up custodian
of the city's reading flamed up. "I felt the call," he exclaimed. "You
may not credit it to look at me now, Mr. Hodder. They said to me, 'here
is what