CHAPTER PAGE
INo Place for Sentiment[1]
II“Why?”[9]
IIIThe Change in the Rector’s Eyes[22]
IVToo Many Men[35]
VEdward E. Allison Takes a Vacation[47]
VIThe Impulsive Young Man From Home[59]
VIIThey Had Already Spoiled Her![70]
VIIIStill Piecing Out the World[80]
IXThe Mine for the Golden Altar[88]
XThe Storm Center of Magnetic Attraction[98]
XI“Gentlemen, There is Your Empire!”[111]
XIIGail Solves the Problem of Vedder Court[123]
XIIIThe Survival of the Fittest[135]
XIVThe Free and Entirely Uncurbed[150]
XVBut Why Was She Lonesome?[158]
XVIGail at Home[167]
XVIISomething Happens to Gerald Fosland[178]
XVIIIThe Message from New York[187]
XIXThe Rector Knows[199]
XXThe Breed of Gail[212]
XXIThe Public is Aroused[221]
XXIIThe Rev. Smith Boyd Protests[231]
XXIIIA Series of Gaieties[240]
XXIVThe Maker of Maps[250]
XXVA Question of Eugenics[262]
XXVIAn Empire and an Empress[271]
XXVIIAllison’s Private and Particular Devil[281]
XXVIIILove[289]
XXIXGail First![299]
XXXThe Flutter of a Sheet of Music[309]
XXXIGail Breaks a Promise[315]
XXXIIGerald Fosland Makes a Speech[325]
XXXIIIChicken, or Steak?[334]
XXXIVA Matter of Conscience[344]
XXXVA Vestry Meeting[353]
XXXVIHand in Hand[362]

ILLUSTRATIONS

For an instant the brown eyes and the blue ones met[Frontispiece]
FACING PAGE
At 7:15 Ephraim found him at the end of the table in the midst of some neat and intricate tabulations[51]
She was glad to be alone, to rescue herself from the whirl of anger and indignation and humiliation which had swept around her[109]
She telephoned that she was going to remain with Allison; and they enjoyed a two hour chat of many things[278]

The Ball of Fire

CHAPTER I
NO PLACE FOR SENTIMENT

Silence pervaded the dim old aisles of Market Square Church; a silence which seemed to be palpable; a solemn hush which wavered, like the ghostly echoes of anthems long forgotten, among the slender columns and the high arches and the delicate tracery of the groining; the winter sun, streaming through the clerestory windows, cast, on the floor and on the vacant benches, patches of ruby and of sapphire, of emerald and of topaz, these seeming only to accentuate the dimness and the silence.

A thin, wavering, treble note, so delicate that it seemed like a mere invisible cobweb of a tone, stole out of the organ loft and went pulsing up amid the dim arches. It grew in volume; it added a diapason; a deep, soft bass joined it, and then, subdued, but throbbing with the passion of a lost soul, it swelled into one of the noble preludes of Bach. The organ rose in a mighty crescendo to a peal which shook the very edifice; then it stopped with an abruptness which was uncanny, so much so that the silence which ensued was oppressive. In that silence the vestry door creaked, it opened wide, and it was as if a vision had suddenly been set there! Framed in the dark doorway against the background of the sun-flooded vestry, bathed in the golden light from the transept window, brown-haired, brown-eyed, rosy-cheeked, stood a girl who might have been one of the slender stained-glass virgins come to life, the golden light flaming the edges of her hair into an oriole. She stood timidly, peering into the dimness, and on her beautifully curved lips was a half questioning smile.

“Uncle Jim,” she called, and there was some quality in her low voice which was strangely attractive; and disturbing.

“By George, Gail, I forgot that you were to come for me!” said Jim Sargent, rising from amid the group of men in the dim transept. “The decorators drove us out of the vestry.”

“They drove me out, too,” laughed the vision, stepping from her frame.