The judge, falling easily into the drift of Mrs. Tracy’s thought, glad to avert what had promised to be a most incongruous and unfortunate incident, rose readily to the occasion.
“Very well,” he said. “The sentence of the court is that you, the Reverend Robert Farrar, and you, Miss Ruth Tracy, each pay a visit to Mrs. John Bradley, and undergo an imprisonment in her house at hard labor with her for a period of at least twenty minutes, and that you stand committed to Mr. Tracy’s views on church polity until this sentence is complied with.”
Westgate broke in at once.
“Your Honor,” he said, “my client, Barry Malleson, desires to plead guilty of a similar offense, provided he may receive a similar sentence.”
With assumed gravity the judge commanded the prisoner to stand up. Barry rose, looking somewhat bewildered. The comedy was being played rather too rapidly for him to take it completely in as it progressed.
“Barry Malleson,” said the judge, “the court accepts your plea of guilty. Your offense is aggravated beyond that of the other defendants, in that, by your own confession, you have offered money to a proletarian, by means of which she might have placed herself on a par with the four hundred of this city. Nor are there any extenuating circumstances in your case. The sentence of the court therefore is that you also pay a visit to Mrs. John Bradley; that you undergo an imprisonment in her house, for a period of at least forty minutes, that you come away with a whole purse and a whole heart; and you are hereby paroled in the custody of Miss Jane Chichester until this sentence is complied with.”
“And I’ll see,” said Miss Chichester, “that Barry doesn’t break his parole.”
It was most inconsequential foolery, but it served its purpose. The strain was relaxed. The atmosphere was cleared. Mrs. Farrar and Mrs. Bosworth were relieved of their apprehensions, and Ruth was once more at ease. New subjects of conversation were introduced, and the dinner progressed to a happy and harmonious close.
If Mr. Farrar had expected that either Judge Bosworth or Westgate would show any lack of friendliness or loss of cordiality toward him, he was agreeably disappointed. There appeared to be no change in the attitude of either of them. So far as Westgate was concerned he still had a most kindly feeling for the rector. The two men had been on terms of more than usual intimacy. They were nearly of the same age, possessed of similar cultured tastes, endowed with an equal degree of intellectuality. It is true that while the minister was vigorous, enthusiastic, and perhaps visionary, Westgate was calm, logical and conservative. But their differing traits were complementary, and added to, instead of detracting from, their liking for each other. Westgate had watched, with deep regret, the rector’s gradual drift toward the shoals of socialism. He feared that, sooner or later, lured on by these beautiful fallacies which made so strong an appeal to his humanitarian sense, the minister would wreck a career otherwise brilliant with promise. He did not concede that he, himself, was lacking in the broader vision, or that he had failed to discover the drift of humanity toward a better social order. He freely admitted that such a betterment was desirable; but he insisted that progressives and enthusiasts like Farrar were going about the business in an utterly mistaken way, and that the effect of their propaganda would be to retard instead of to advance the coming of the ideal state. He had not yet found the opportunity to have that talk with the rector which he had declared to the vestry he intended to have. It was unfortunate, too, because he expected to leave the city the following day for an extended trip in the West; and after his return it might be too late. Events often follow each other rapidly in affairs like these. While coffee was being served in the library it occurred to him that he might have a brief interview with the minister on this occasion. It would be better than none at all. Excusing themselves on Westgate’s plea that he desired to talk over some Church matters with the minister before going West, they entered the den of the master of the house, adjoining the library. Closeted here, with fragrant wreaths of tobacco smoke curling toward the ceiling, the two men plunged at once into friendly combat. They discussed socialism in all of its phases as expounded by its great protagonists, from Marx and Engel down to Spargo and Hillquit.