"I was thinking," replied Ruth; but just there Westgate interrupted her:
"She was thinking," he suggested, "what a glorious day it would be to walk home."
The girl smiled and turned toward him. "If you mean that for an invitation, Philip," she said, "it's accepted."
Mrs. Tracy felt the balmy air sweep her face as she went on alone in luxurious flight, while the contemplation of the incident at the curb and its possible sequel gave her vastly more comfort and satisfaction than had the pious assurances of the Reverend Dr. Marbury in his morning sermon.
Both Ruth and Westgate recalled that September morning, a year before, when they had walked home together from the church, and discord had overtaken them on their way. But neither of them spoke of it. It was a thing too long gone by, and an incident that perhaps it were better, after all, to forget.
It was in the middle of the second block that Westgate said to her:
"I think I ought to tell you that I saw Mr. Farrar in the west."
"Indeed?"
Her face paled a little, and her breath came quickly; otherwise she manifested no loss of composure.
"Yes. He is settled in a parish in Apollo City. Our bishop made it possible for him to go there. I heard that he was there, and being in that neighborhood I went over to see him."
"I hope he is very happy and contented."
"I never saw a man more absorbed in his work, or more enthusiastic about it. You know Apollo City is the center of a great agricultural and grazing region. Farmers and stock men come fifty miles in their automobiles to church. He has captured them all. It is an extremely democratic community, and a democratic church. Why, he tells me that the present church
