"We are getting away from the subject, John," Theodora hastened to interpose. For the moment she had looked amused at his insistency, but the tired, drawn look on her white face occasioned by three sleepless nights was too strong to let the smile lie upon her lips.
"Just before driving up to the clubhouse we crossed the links, and Mr. Flathers exclaimed: 'There's Donald McDonald. He holds the bogey for the year.' Just think, John! you remember he married my old Madge Crosby of the class of '95. It all flashed across me in a second; and the next moment there was Madge on the veranda; the same dear old Madge, only more so in avoirdupois and good spirits. After the first greetings I told her my errand in the West. She was amazed. She said: 'Why, how strange! Since we moved here, two years ago, Mrs. Dorrs-Flathers has made a confidante of me in connection with church affairs; just why, I don't know. She has never mentioned a deaconess for St. Stephen's. In fact, there is no demand for such a thing. The work of a deaconess has been distributed amongst the society girls, and it is their salvation. I have heard Mrs. Flathers speak of a sisterhood in connection with a school of embroidery, but it is very vague, even in her mind.' Then of course Madge went on, just as she always did, but what she said I don't remember. My mind had been paralyzed. At last I knew how to act. As I said before, I had felt under a weight. This frankness on the part of my old school friend dispelled doubt. There was simply readjustment before me. Something had gone wrong. It was my duty to alter the grave mistake which had been made, immediately. The more I thought about it as we drove home, the more I realized that I must withdraw at once graciously, if not gracefully. There seemed no one to blame as I thought about it then; indeed, I can see no fault that can be placed anywhere now, as I talk it over with you. It was a matter of standards. The woman with her money thought she wanted a deaconess and then she thought she didn't want one."
"What about Archibald? You're very charitable with the benevolent Mrs. Dorrs-Flathers. Was Archibald equal to her occasion? They make a very pretty pair."
"Don't talk like that, John. The bishop-elect, as the Flatherses call him, is so wrapped up in his work, she tells me, that the details of life, its incidents and episodes, make but momentary impression on him."
"But didn't you see Archibald?"
"Yes; he dined with us Sunday, and after I had told him in a brief and informal chat that I felt the work was not for me, after all, and that I also felt there had been a grave mistake somewhere, he seemed to lose control of his manliness.
"That was the saddest blow of all to me. That great frame of his sunk back into the pillows on the sofa and seemed to shrink. His jaw dropped, and the lines of a querulous woman formed about his mouth. I have so admired his soul, it hurt me to see his body cringe. Once while we were talking he said, 'I don't want you to go away thinking me dishonest or unmanly, Miss Hart.' And later he said: 'I wish I could do something for you. Mayn't I send you some roses at the station?' John March, think of the adequacy of roses in such a moment! Now I've told you all, absolutely all that had any reference to my deaconess's work.
"When I came away Mr. and Mrs. Flathers were effusive in their hospitality for a further visit. She said she hoped that the little ordeal had not been a nervous strain. For her own part, she was glad it had happened. It had been a 'rare pleasure' to know me. As a cap-sheaf to the climax she said, 'If there has seemed to be any duplicity or double-dealing over this little affair, it was just to make matters smooth at both ends.'"
"What are you going to do about it, Theodora? Shall you write to the bishop-elect, or let me write him?"
"Why, Cousin John, how absurd you are! I sha'n't write him and you won't write him. I'm glad it happened, though it hurt awfully. I shall go more softly all the days of my life, that's all. I sha'n't dream dreams so much, and see visions. I have been into another world—their world; and it is part of life. I have grown. Their code of thinking is very different from yours or mine,
