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Rushbrooke, the thing has to be faced," interposed Mr. McPherson. "We cannot shut our eyes to the fact of war, and this is the supreme fact in our national life to-day. Everything else is secondary." "Oh, I do not agree with you, Mr. McPherson," said Mrs. Rushbrooke, taking the word out of her husband's mouth. "Of course war is terrible and all that, but men must do their work.
The people gathered about the fire and disposed themselves in groups upon the sloping, grassy sward under the trees, upon the shelving rocks and upon the sandy shore. But Mr. Murray had business on hand. In company with Dr. Brown and the minister, Mr. McPherson, he sought his host. "Would it be possible, Mr. Rushbrooke," he said, "to gather a number of business men here together?"
It seems to me that we must keep our heads and as far as possible prevent undue excitement and guard against panic." "Perhaps you are right, Mr. Rushbrooke. The thought in my mind was that we ought to get a meeting together in Winnipeg soon. But everybody is away. A great many are here at the Lake; it seemed a good opportunity to make some preliminary arrangement." "My dear Mr. Murray," said Mrs.
"What for?" inquired Rushbrooke. "Well, I may be all wrong," said Mr. Murray apologetically, "but I have the feeling that we ought without delay to discuss what preliminary steps should be taken to meet with the critical conditions brought on by the war." "But, Mr. Murray," cried Mrs.
That dread word rang out sharp, insistent, penetrating through the quiet hum of voices rising from the groups about the fire. By this time a very considerable number of men present had joined themselves to the group about the speakers. "Well, Mr. Murray," said Mr. Rushbrooke, with a laugh, "it seems to me that we cannot help it very well.
Thanks to Mark's intervention the business was explained without scandal; nobody doubted that the squire of Rushbrooke Grange died a martyr to his dislike of ivy's encroaching upon ancient images. Esther's stormy soul took refuge in a convent, and there it seemed at peace. The encounter between Esther and Will Starling had the effect of strengthening Mark's intention to be celibate.
Honeybone had already hurried off to greet her master; and when she was gone Mark looked at Esther, saw that her face was strangely flushed, and in an instant of divination apprehended either that she had already met the squire of Rushbrooke Grange or that she expected to meet him here to-night; so that, when presently a tall man of about thirty-five with brick-dust cheeks came into the close, he was not taken aback when Esther greeted him by name with the assurance of old friendship.
"You must go and explore Wych Maries," the Rector had said to Mark soon after they arrived. "You'll find it rather attractive. There's a disused chapel dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin and St. Mary Magdalene. My predecessor took me there when we drove round the parish on my first visit; but I haven't yet had time to go again. And you ought to have a look at the gardens of Rushbrooke Grange.
In these days, with the terrible engines of destruction that science has produced, wars will be short and sharp. Germany will get her medicine and I hope it will do her good." If Mr. Rushbrooke expected his somewhat flamboyant speech to awaken enthusiastic approval, he must have been disappointed. His words were received in grave silence.
He feels that not merely the relation of the war to Christianity, but its relation to God, is engaging public attention, and he stumbles into the theory that God sent the war. It is "God's judgment on the Church's failure." We must suppose that Mr. Rushbrooke did not literally mean what he said. His words imply a theory of the war more monstrous even than that of Archbishop Carr.
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