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Updated: June 5, 2025
For life presented no more complicated problems to the middle-aged Mrs. Whitely than it had to Alice Langmaid. "I know what you've come for, Nelson," she said reproachfully, when she greeted him at the station. "Dr. Gilman's dead, and you want our Mr. Hodder. I feel it in my bones. Well, you can't get him. He's had ever so many calls, but he won't leave Bremerton."
And Nelson Langmaid, who had fallen into the habit of dropping into Hodder's rooms in the parish house on his way uptown for a chat about books, had been struck by the rector's friendship with the banker. "I don't understand how you managed it, Hodder, in such a short time," he declared. "Mr. Parr's a difficult man.
Then he seized his hat and made his way as rapidly as possible through the crowds to the Parr Building. At the entrance of the open-air roof garden of the Eyrie he ran into Nelson Langmaid. "You're the very man I'm after," said Mr. Plimpton, breathlessly. "I stopped in your office, and they said you'd gone up." "What's the matter, Wallis?" inquired the lawyer, tranquilly.
Turning to the right on Burton Street, she soon found herself walking rapidly westward through deserted streets lined by factories and warehouses, and silent in the Sabbath calm . . . . She thought of Hodder, she would have liked to go to him in that hour . . . . In Park Street, luncheon was half over, and Nelson Langmaid was at the table with her father.
You had every reason to congratulate yourself that you were getting what you doubtless would call a safe man." "I'll admit I had a twinge of uneasiness after I came home," Langmaid confessed. Hodder smiled at his frankness. "But that disappeared." "Yes, it disappeared. You seemed to suit 'em so perfectly.
She was, therefore, later in the day not greatly surprised to find herself supplying her brother with arguments. Much as they admired and loved Mr. Hodder, they had always realized that he could not remain buried in Bremerton. His talents demanded a wider field. "Talents!" exclaimed Langmaid, "I didn't know he had any."
I conceive it our duty to find a man who is neither too old nor too young, who will preach the faith as we received it, who is not sensational, and who does not mistake socialism for Christianity." By force of habit, undoubtedly, Mr. Parr glanced at Nelson Langmaid as he sat down. Innumerable had been the meetings of financial boards at which Mr.
Parr seemed indeed to regard the rest of his fellow-creatures with the suspicion at which Langmaid had hinted, to look askance at the amenities people tentatively held out to him. And the private watchman whom Hodder sometimes met in the darkness, and who invariably scrutinized pedestrians on Park Street, seemed symbolic, of this attitude.
And you may write the Bishop, if you wish." "How has he built up the church?" Langmaid demanded "How? How does any clergyman buildup a church "I don't know," Langmaid confessed. "It strikes me as quite a tour de force in these days. Does he manage to arouse enthusiasm for orthodox Christianity?" "Well," said Gerard Whitely, "I think the service appeals. We've made it as beautiful as possible.
Hodder had spoken without bitterness, yet his irony was by no means lost on the lawyer. Langmaid, if the truth be told, found himself for the moment in the unusual predicament of being at a loss, for the rector had put forward with more or less precision the very cynical view which he himself had been clever enough to evolve.
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