“That,” said Hodder, “must be taken as a compliment to the dean of the theological seminary from which I graduated.”

The financier stared again.  But he decided that Mr. Hodder had not meant to imply that he, Mr. Parr, was attempting to supersede the dean.  The answer had been modest.

“I take it for granted that you and I and all sensible men are happily. agreed that the Church should remain where she is.  Let the people come to her.  She should be, if I may so express it, the sheet anchor of society, our bulwark against socialism, in spite of socialists who call themselves ministers of God.  The Church has lost ground—­why?  Because she has given ground.  The sanctity of private property is being menaced, demagogues are crying out from the house-tops and inciting people against the men who have made this country what it is, who have risked their fortunes and their careers for the present prosperity.  We have no longer any right, it seems, to employ whom we will in our factories and our railroads; we are not allowed to regulate our rates, although the risks were all ours.  Even the women are meddling,—­they are not satisfied to stay in the homes, where they belong.  You agree with me?”

“As to the women,” said the rector, “I have to acknowledge that I have never had any experience with the militant type of which you speak.”

“I pray God you may never have,” exclaimed Mr. Parr, with more feeling than he had yet shown.

“Woman’s suffrage, and what is called feminism in general, have never penetrated to Bremerton.  Indeed, I must confess to have been wholly out of touch with the problems to which you refer, although of course I have been aware of their existence.”

“You will meet them here,” said the banker, significantly.

“Yes,” the rector replied thoughtfully, “I can see that.  I know that the problems here will be more complicated, more modern,—­more difficult.  And I thoroughly agree with you that their ultimate solution is dependent on Christianity.  If I did not believe,—­in spite of the evident fact which you point out of the Church’s lost ground, that her future will be greater than her past, I should not be a clergyman.”

The quiet but firm note of faith was, not lost on the financier, and yet was not he quite sure what was to be made of it?  He had a faint and fleeting sense of disquiet, which registered and was gone.

“I hope so,” he said vaguely, referring perhaps to the resuscitation of which the rector spoke.  He drummed on the table.  “I’ll go so far as to say that I, too, think that the structure can be repaired.  And I believe it is the duty of the men of influence—­all men of influence—­to assist.  I don’t say that men of influence are not factors in the Church to-day, but I do say that they are not using the intelligence in this task which they bring to bear, for instance, on their business.”

“Perhaps the clergy might help,” Hodder suggested, and added more seriously, “I think that many of them are honestly trying to do so.”