In due time the vestry notified the bishop, in accordance with the canon, that it proposed to elect, as rector of Christ Church, the Reverend Dr. Marbury, a man of good report and of great learning, devoted to the godly maintenance of organized religion in pursuance of the forms and customs of the Church.
So Dr. Marbury came. He was politic and gracious, kind-hearted and wise. Slowly but none the less effectively the breach in the parish was healed. The old parishioners came back. The institutions and charities of the church were placed once more upon a solid footing. The poor were relieved, the sick were visited, the lowly were befriended, the stranger was welcomed to the shelter of the church.
One beautiful September Sunday, at the close of the morning service, as Ruth Tracy and her mother moved down the aisle chatting with their friends and neighbors, Philip Westgate joined them. He had just returned from a long business journey in the far west. Mother and daughter greeted him pleasantly, and he accompanied them to their car waiting for them at the curb.
"Philip," said Mrs. Tracy, "you'll come and have luncheon with us to-day, won't you? I want to hear about that wonderful trip. We'll call for your mother on the way up—she always gets away from service ahead of me—and we'll have a nice, comfortable visit."
He glanced at Ruth's face, and, although she was looking the other way, he saw in it no sign of disapproval.
"Thank you, Mrs. Tracy!" he said. "It is very kind of you. I'm sure mother will enjoy it; and it will give me great pleasure to come."
He handed the elder woman into the car, and turned to Ruth. She was still looking away from him.
"Come, Ruth!" said her mother. "The car is waiting. What are you mooning about?"
