“Ah,” said the Bishop, shaking his head gravely.  “I did not indeed imagine that Canon Whymper would be misinformed about such an important feature; but I did not think it right to act without ascertaining first from you that such is indeed the case.  Mr. Rowley, it would be difficult for me to express how grievously it pains me to have to seem to interfere in the slightest degree with the successful prosecution of your work among the poor of Chatsea, especially to make such interference one of the first of my actions in a new diocese; but the responsibilities of a bishop are grave.  He cannot lightly endorse a condition of affairs, a method of services which in his inmost heart after the deepest confederation he feels is repugnant to the spirit of the Church Of England. . . .”

“I question that opinion, my lord,” said the Missioner.

“Mr. Rowley, pray allow me to finish.  We have little time at our disposal for a theological argument which would in any case be fruitless, for as I told you I have already examined the question with the deepest consideration from every standpoint.  Though I may respect your opinions in my private capacity, for I do not wish to impugn for one moment the sincerity of your beliefs, in my episcopal, or what I may call my public character, I can only condemn them utterly.  Utterly, Mr. Rowley, and completely.”

“But this altar, my lord,” shouted Father Rowley, springing to his feet, to the alarm of Mark, who thought he was going to shake his fist in the Bishop’s face, “this altar was subscribed for by the poor of St. Agnes’, by all the poor of St. Agnes’, as a memorial of the lives of sailors and marines of St. Agnes’ lost in the sinking of the King Harry.  Your predecessor, Bishop Crawshay, knew of its existence, actually saw it and commented on its ugliness; yet when I told him the circumstances in which it had been erected he was deeply moved by the beautiful idea.  This altar has been in use for nearly three years.  Masses for the dead have been said there time after time.  This altar is surrounded by memorials of my dead people.  It is one of the most vital factors in my work there.  You ask me to remove it, before you have been in the diocese a month, before you have had time to see with your own eyes what an influence for good it has on the daily lives of the poor people who built it.  My lord, I will not remove the altar.”

While Father Rowley was speaking the Bishop of Silchester had been looking like a man on a railway platform who has been ambushed by a whistling engine.

“Mr. Rowley, Mr. Rowley,” he said, “I pray you to control yourself.  I beg you to understand that this is not a mere question of red tape, if I may use the expression, of one extra altar or Holy Table, but it is a question of the services said at that altar or Holy Table.”

“That is precisely what I am trying to point out to your lordship,” said Father Rowley angrily.