"Very!" responded Phil gravely.
"And," continued Mrs. Tracy, "he said we should commune together. Now, just think of it! There's our gardener, Jim, you know, who chews tobacco constantly. Imagine having him next you at communion, and having him drink first out of the cup! Heavens!"
She shuddered and drew her skirts closer about her ample figure, lest haply some unclean member of the proletariat, passing by, should brush advertently against them.
"I think," said Miss Chichester, "that some one ought to speak to Mr. Farrar. I don't believe he really knows how objectionable his theories are."
"Good idea!" exclaimed Barry. "I'll speak to him myself. He'll listen to me. The thing has got to be stopped before some of those people actually intrude themselves into our pews. There isn't one of them" Barry stopped suddenly. A vision of the fascinating face and trim figure of the woman of Factory Hill had flashed into his mind.
"What is it, Barry?" inquired Miss Chichester in apparent alarm.
"I was just thinking," replied Barry, hesitatingly, "that there might be exceptions—exceptions, you know."
"Mrs. Bradley, for instance?" asked Miss Chichester.
"Why," responded Barry, "I don't think Mrs. Bradley would be what you might call really objectionable."
"And who is Mrs. Bradley?" inquired Mrs. Tracy.
"Oh," replied Westgate, "she's one of Barry's discoveries in humble life."
"Is she the one who lost the lawsuit?" inquired Ruth.
"The very one," answered Westgate. "I shall not soon forget how you took me to task for my part in that case."
"I did think," responded Ruth, "that it was a shame to send her out of court empty-handed. And I think
