The new Catholic church was the largest and most imposing public building in Octavius.Even in its unfinished condition, with a bald roofing of weather-beaten boards marking on the stunted tower the place where a spire was to begin later on, it dwarfed every other edifice of the sort in the town, just as it put them all to shame in the matter of the throngs it drew, rain or shine, to its services.
These facts had not heretofore been a source of satisfaction to the Rev.Theron Ware.He had even alluded to the subject in terms which gave his wife the impression that he actively deplored the strength and size of the Catholic denomination in this new home of theirs, and was troubled in his mind about Rome generally.But this evening he walked along the extended side of the big structure, which occupied nearly half the block, and then, turning the corner, passed in review its wide-doored, looming front, without any hostile emotions whatever.
In the gathering dusk it seemed more massive than ever before, but he found himself only passively considering the odd statement he had heard that all Catholic Church property was deeded absolutely in the name of the Bishop of the diocese.
Only a narrow passage-way separated the church from the pastorate--a fine new brick residence standing flush upon the street.Theron mounted the steps, and looked about for a bell-pull.Search revealed instead a little ivory button set in a ring of metal work.
He picked at this for a time with his finger-nail, before he made out the injunction, printed across it, to push.
Of course! how stupid of him! This was one of those electric bells he had heard so much of, but which had not as yet made their way to the class of homes he knew.
For custodians of a mediaeval superstition and fanaticism, the Catholic clergy seemed very much up to date.This bell made him feel rather more a countryman than ever.
The door was opened by a tall gaunt woman, who stood in black relief against the radiance of the hall-way while Theron, choosing his words with some diffidence, asked if the Rev.Mr.Forbes was in.
"He is" came the hush-voiced answer."He's at dinner, though."It took the young minister a second or two to bring into association in his mind this evening hour and this midday meal.Then he began to say that he would call again--it was nothing special--but the woman suddenly cut him short by throwing the door wide open.
"It's Mr.Ware, is it not?" she asked, in a greatly altered tone."Sure, he'd not have you go away.
Come inside--do, sir!--I'll tell him."
Theron, with a dumb show of reluctance, crossed the threshold.
He noted now that the woman, who had bustled down the hall on her errand, was gray-haired and incredibly ugly, with a dark sour face, glowering black eyes, and a twisted mouth.
Then he saw that he was not alone in the hall-way.
Three men and two women, all poorly clad and obviously working people, were seated in meek silence on a bench beyond the hat-rack.They glanced up at him for an instant, then resumed their patient study of the linoleum pattern on the floor at their feet.
"And will you kindly step in, sir?" the elderly Gorgon had returned to ask.She led Mr.Ware along the hall-way to a door near the end, and opened it for him to pass before her.
He entered a room in which for the moment he could see nothing but a central glare of dazzling light beating down from a great shaded lamp upon a circular patch of white table linen.Inside this ring of illumination points of fire sparkled from silver and porcelain, and two bars of burning crimson tracked across the cloth in reflection from tall glasses filled with wine.
The rest of the room was vague darkness; but the gloom seemed saturated with novel aromatic odors, the appetizing scent of which bore clear relation to what Theron's blinking eyes rested upon.
He was able now to discern two figures at the table, outside the glowing circle of the lamp.They had both risen, and one came toward him with cordial celerity, holding out a white plump hand in greeting.He took this proffered hand rather limply, not wholly sure in the half-light that this really was Father Forbes, and began once more that everlasting apology to which he seemed doomed in the presence of the priest.It was broken abruptly off by the other's protesting laughter.
"My dear Mr.Ware, I beg of you," the priest urged, chuckling with hospitable mirth, "don't, don't apologize!
I give you my word, nothing in the world could have pleased us better than your joining us here tonight.
It was quite dramatic, your coming in as you did.
We were speaking of you at that very moment.Oh, I forgot--let me make you acquainted with my friend--my very particular friend, Dr.Ledsmar.Let me take your hat;pray draw up a chair.Maggie will have a place laid for you in a minute.""Oh, I assure you--I couldn't think of it--I've just eaten my--my--dinner," expostulated Theron.He murmured more inarticulate remonstrances a moment later, when the grim old domestic appeared with plates, serviette, and tableware for his use, but she went on spreading them before him as if she heard nothing.Thus committed against a decent show of resistance, the young minister did eat a little here and there of what was set before him, and was human enough to regret frankly that he could not eat more.It seemed to him very remarkable cookery, transfiguring so simple a thing as a steak, for example, quite out of recognition, and investing the humble potato with a charm he had never dreamed of.
He wondered from time to time if it would be polite to ask how the potatoes were cooked, so that he might tell Alice.
The conversation at the table was not continuous, or even enlivened.After the lapses into silence became marked, Theron began to suspect that his refusal to drink wine had annoyed them--the more so as he had drenched a large section of table-cloth in his efforts to manipulate a siphon instead.
