And as they talked, there passed before Katie, as in review, the things she had seen that summer—­passed before her the worn faces of those girls who night after night during the hot summer had come from the stores and factories where the men of whom her uncle was so jubilantly speaking made the money which they were able to subscribe to the church.  She thought of her uncle’s church; she could not recall having seen many such faces in the pews of that church.  She thought of Ann—­wondered where Ann might be that night while she and her uncle chatted so cheerfully in his pleasant room at his luxurious hotel.  She tried to think of anything for which her uncle stood which would give her confidence in saying to herself, “Ann will be saved.”  The large sum of money over which he was gloating was to be used for a new cathedral.  She wondered if the Anns of her uncle’s city would find the world a safer or a sweeter place after that cathedral had been erected.  She thought of Ann’s world of the opera and world of work.  Was it true—­as the man who mended the boats would hold—­that the one made the other possible—­only to be excluded from it?  And all the while there swept before her faces—­faces seen in the crowd, faces of those who were not finding what they wanted, faces of all those to whom life denied life.  And then Katie thought of a man who had lived & long time before, a man of whom her uncle spoke lovingly in his sermons as Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God.  She thought of Ann’s father—­how far he had gone from a religion of love.  Then came back to her lovable uncle.  Well, what of him?

Charm of personality, a sense of humor, a comfortable view of living (for himself and his kind) did not seem the final word.

“Uncle,” Katie asked quietly, “do you ever think much about Christ?”

In his astonishment the Bishop dropped his cigar.

“What a strange man he must have been,” she murmured.

“Kindly explain yourself,” said he curtly.

“He seemed to think so much about people.  Just people.  And chiefly people who were down on their luck.  I don’t believe he would have been much good at raising money.  He had such a queer way of going around where people worked, talking with them about their work.  If he were here now, and were to do that, I wonder if he’d help much in ’stemming the rising tide of socialism’ What a blessing it is for our institutions,” Katie concluded, “that he’s not anywhere around.”

The Bishop’s hand shook.  “I had not expected,” he said, “that my own niece, my favorite niece—­indeed, the favorite member of my family—­was here to—­revile me.”

“Uncle—­forgive me!  But isn’t it bigger than that thing of being members of the same family—­hurting each other’s feelings?  Oh uncle!” she burst forth, no longer able to hold back, “as you stand sometimes at the altar don’t you hear them moaning and sobbing down underneath?”

He looked at her sharply, with some alarm.