her on he spoke to her severely about
the parasol she carried; and further yet about the strange fashion,
specially condemned by the Old Testament, in which she wore her hair.
So Catherine knew in her heart from this that she must be looking her
very prettiest, and went into the rectory radiant.

The tea was, of course, an awkward meal at the best. There was an
initial difficulty about grace, not easily surmounted. And when the
Rev. Mr. Dumfarthing sternly refused tea as a pernicious drink
weakening to the system, the Anglican rector was too ignorant of the
presbyterian system to know enough to give him Scotch whiskey.

But there were bright spots in the meal as well. The rector was even
able to ask Catherine, sideways as a personal question, if she played
tennis; and she was able to whisper behind her hand, "Not allowed," and
to make a face in the direction of her father, who was absorbed for the
moment in a theological question with Juliana. Indeed, before the
conversation became general again the rector had contrived to make a
rapid arrangement with Catherine whereby she was to come with him to
the Newberry's tennis court the day following and learn the game, with
or without permission.

So the tea was perhaps a success in its way. And it is noteworthy that
Juliana spent the days that followed it in reading Calvin's
"Institutes" (specially loaned to her) and "Dumfarthing on the
Certainty of Damnation" (a gift), and in praying for her brother--a
task practically without hope. During which same time the rector in
white flannels, and Catherine in a white duck skirt and blouse, were
flying about on the green grass of the Newberrys' court, and calling,
"love," "love all," to one another so gaily and so brazenly that even
Mr. Newberry felt that there must be something in it.

But all these things came merely as interludes in the moving currents
of greater events; for as the summer faded into autumn and autumn into
winter the anxieties of the trustees of St. Asaph's began to call for
action of some sort.

* * * * *

"Edward," said the rector's father on the occasion of their next
quarterly discussion, "I cannot conceal from you that the position of
things is very serious. Your statements show a falling off in every
direction. Your interest is everywhere in arrears; your current account
overdrawn to the limit. At this rate, you know, the end is inevitable.
Your debenture and bondholders will decide