“Well, I should hope so,” she responded. “Do you men know how long you have been closeted together? Exactly an hour and forty minutes. Ruth and Jane have played all the music they know; Barry’s told all the funny stories he can remember; Mrs. Farrar’s yawning, and Mrs. Bosworth says she’s simply got to go home. So I think it’s time for you to come out and apologize.”
They did come out and apologize. Westgate took all the blame for their apparent rudeness on his shoulders; and Miss Chichester promised forgiveness if only they would disclose what they had been talking about. She surmised, but she never knew.
At any rate, Mrs. Tracy’s purpose in giving the dinner had been accomplished; the apprehensive soul of Mrs. Farrar had, for the time being, been reassured, and Ruth had had an opportunity to show to Mr. Farrar that he was not yet persona non grata to certain of the wealthy members of his parish.
During the few minutes that Westgate had alone with Ruth before leaving the Tracy home, he took occasion to say to her:
“I’ve had it out with the rector to-night, but he’ll not be convinced. I have told him that, in my humble judgment, he is steering Christ Church straight on the rocks.”
“I too,” she replied, “have talked with him to-night, and I have told him that in my humble judgment he is absolutely in the right, and that I shall be with him to the end.”
“Ruth, I am very sorry.”
“Why should you be sorry?”
“Because you will not only help this man to wreck the church, but you will do yourself a great injustice.”
“The church will not be wrecked, and I am willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of the disinherited poor.”