time should really come for love-making. For it must be admitted that Barry had taken into contemplation more than once a proposal of marriage to the widow, and the difficulties which might beset it. He could not quite understand his own hesitancy. Heretofore he had shown perfect self-composure in his association with women of all social grades. He had asked Ruth Tracy to marry him with as much self-assurance and ease of manner as he would have exhibited in asking for another cup of coffee at breakfast time. If Jane Chichester had appealed to his romantic fancy in the slightest degree, he could have proposed marriage to her without the quickening of a pulse or the moving of an eyelash. But the very thought of approaching the Widow Bradley on the subject of love and matrimony threw him into a fever and flutter of excitement.
The gradual winning over of Barry to the rector's cause had been attended with some raillery on the part of his friends, and some unhappy comments in his presence on the part of members of his family. But once persuaded he was not easily dissuaded. Not that his adherence to either party in the conflict was a matter of great moment. He was not a vestryman, he was not a communicant, he was without voice, and, broadly speaking, without influence in the counsels of the church, yet his defection was not without its bearing on the case, and he, himself, considered his change of attitude as being most significant and important. The matter of the controversy weighed heavily on his mind. He gave it much time and thought. On more than one occasion he interviewed the rector, the several vestrymen, and some of the leading women of the church, in a fruitless effort to bring about harmony. The questions that had arisen occupied his attention to the exclusion of more important matters. Their consideration seriously interfered with the due performance of the duties that had been assigned to him as vice-president of the Malleson Manufacturing Company, although it must be admitted
