his parish work could be done, especially his work among the poor, if only his wife were possessed of greater zeal, of greater ability, of greater sympathy with the unfortunate and with those on whom the hand of adversity had fallen heavily. And, in logical sequence, his thought went on to consider what an ideal helpmate for a clergyman Ruth Tracy would be. She, indeed, had not only intellect and skill, not only the ability to manage successfully the social affairs of a parish, not only a pious zeal for the work of the Church, but also a broad sympathy for those who were in any kind of distress, and a charming personality that drew to her, irresistibly, all classes of people. Yet she was to marry a layman, Philip Westgate the lawyer, a vestryman of Christ Church, active in its business affairs; but a non-communicant, who, apparently, had never been impressed with the necessity of subscribing to the creed, or of identifying himself, religiously, with the Church. It was a comforting thought to the rector, however, that in the event of Miss Tracy's marriage he would not necessarily lose her valued assistance as a helper in the parish work.
Still, it was a pity that she was not to become a minister's wife. And with this thought fresh in his mind, as he turned the corner into Main Street, he ran plump into Westgate himself. The two men were going in the same direction and they walked on together.
"I see," said the rector, "that John Bradley, against whom you obtained a verdict last month, died yesterday. I am going up to call on his widow."
"Indeed!" was the reply. "I hadn't heard of it; but I'm not surprised. I was not aware, though, that the Bradleys were in any way connected with the parish."
"They are not. They are not affiliated with any religious organization, so far as I can learn. That is one reason why I am going up there."
Westgate looked at the rector a little doubtfully, but made no reply.
