“And the spark,” she demanded, “is not Socialism—­their nightmare?”

“The spark is Christianity itself—­but I am afraid they will not be able to distinguish it from Socialism.  The central paradox in Christianity consists in the harmonizing of the individual and socialistic spirit, and this removes it as far from the present political doctrine of socialism as it is possible to be.  Christianity, looked at from a certain viewpoint,—­and I think the proper viewpoint,—­is the most individualistic of religions, since its basic principle is the development of the individual into an autonomous being.”

They stood facing each other on an open stretch of lawn.  The place was deserted.  Through the trees, in the near distance, the sightless front of the Ferguson mansion blazed under the September sun.

“Individualistic!” she repeated, as though dazed by the word applied to the religion she had discarded.  “I can’t understand.  Do you think I ever can understand?” she asked him, simply.

“It seems to me you understand more than you are willing to give yourself credit for,” he answered seriously.  “You don’t take into account your attitude.”

“I see what you mean—­a willingness to take the right road, if I can find it.  I am not at all sure that I want to take it.  But you must tell me more—­more of what you have discovered.  Will you?”

He just hesitated.  She herself appeared to acknowledge no bar to their further intimacy—­why should he?

“I will tell you all I know,” he said.

Suddenly, as if by a transference of thought, she voiced what he had in mind.

“You are going to tell them the truth about themselves!” she exclaimed. “—­That they are not Christians!”

His silence was an admission.

“You must see,” he told her, after the moment they had looked into each other’s faces, “that this is the main reason why I must stay at St. John’s, in the Church, if I conscientiously can.”

“I see.  The easier course would be to resign, to have scruples.  And you believe there is a future for the Church.”

“I believe it,” he assented.

She still held his eyes.

“Yes, it is worth doing.  If you see it that way it is more worth doing than anything else.  Please don’t think,” she said, “that I don’t appreciate why you have told me all this, why you have given me your reasons.  I know it hasn’t been easy.  It’s because you wish me to have faith in you for my own sake, not for yours.  And I am grateful.”

“And if that faith is justified, as you will help to justify it, that it may be transferred to a larger sphere,” he answered.

She gave him her hand, but did not reply.

CHAPTER XIX

MR. GOODRICH BECOMES A PARTISAN

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