CHAPTER VIII
A SIGNIFICANT DINNER PARTY
Disappointment was in store for those who came to Christ Church on the Sunday morning following the vestry meeting in the expectation of hearing a continuance of the rector’s sermons on the duty of the rich toward the poor, and of the poor toward the Church.
No larger congregation had gathered there at any time during the two years’ pastorate of the Reverend Mr. Farrar. Pews that, by reason of the voluntary absence of disaffected parishioners, would otherwise have been vacant, were filled by curious and interested persons who seldom went to any church. Long before the Venite was reached in the order of service every seat was occupied.
But the sermon, forceful and eloquent though it was, dealt only with the parable of the talents, and the lesson to be drawn from it. Nevertheless the humble folk who listened to it went away, for the most part, feeling that they had partaken of something that satisfied and strengthened them.
There was some discussion among his parishioners as to whether the rector had, after all, decided to comply with the expressed wish of his vestrymen, and forego his public criticism of the existing social order. Some of them said, with a knowing smile, that discretion was often the better part of valor. They did not know the man. Nor had they, as yet, heard of his brief address at the labor meeting in Carpenter’s Hall the evening before. When, later, they did hear of it, they were indignant. In their judgment it was utterly inexcusable for the rector of Christ Church to take the stump at a political meeting, held under the auspices of avowed agitators, for the purpose of proclaiming to the non-churchgoing public his social heresies, and of inviting the rabble to make itself indiscriminately at home in the stately pews, and among the exclusive worshipers of Christ Church. Truly he had belittled his calling, and mocked his vestry and affronted his people. The bishop should be notified of his conduct without delay. But the Reverend Mr. Farrar, having fully decided upon his course, did not permit himself to be swerved from it by adverse criticism. He had expected opposition, therefore he was not disappointed when he received it in abundance. He had never thought that his path would be unblocked. He was prepared to suffer for the cause he had espoused. He was ready, if necessary, to be socially ostracized if his opponents saw fit to emphasize their opposition in that manner. But he wished that his wife might be spared. She was so sensitive, so weak, so timid and soft-hearted, so dependent on the companionship and favor of those who were now, for the most part, out of sympathy with him. It was an unfortunate situation. Again the regret that she was not of the stuff of which martyrs are made passed uneasily across his mind. And on the heels of his regret there came an invitation that was not only a reassurance to her, but might also be interpreted as a token of sympathy with him. The rector and his wife were asked to dine at the Tracys’ with a few friends. As to Mr. Tracy, the invitation was without significance so far as it bore any relation to recent events. He never concerned himself about controversies in the Church. He never discussed religious topics with any one. The only kind of an opinion that could be obtained from him was a professional opinion, duly considered, delivered and paid for. With his wife of course it was different. She had an opinion ready on every question that arose, and she was never averse to expressing it.
Reading between the lines the rector could see that Mrs. Tracy’s purpose in giving the invitation was to reassure Mrs. Farrar as to her social standing, notwithstanding her husband’s heresies. And, reading still farther between the lines, he believed that Ruth had in mind his own encouragement in the course he was pursuing. He had not seen her since the night of the vestry meeting, but word had come to him that she was loyally supporting him in his interpretation of true religion, and in his idea of the mission of the Church. And why should she not support him? He had fully expected it of her. She was alert, intelligent, conscientious, in complete accord with that spirit of the times which made for progress. Somewhere she had imbibed ideas of social justice that did not fit in harmoniously with the practical if unstudied programme of her mother. Mrs. Tracy declared that she had imbibed them at Bryn Mawr, from which institution she had been graduated with high honors in the recent past. But Mr. Tracy intimated that they were due to a tendency that she had inherited from certain of her paternal ancestors who had been distinguished members of the proletariat of their day. Be that as it may, her advocacy of a reformation in the social order was open and well known, not only to her intimates but to all of her friends. Philip Westgate was the only one of them who refused to take her seriously. To him her reformatory activity was only a manifestation of an exuberance of youth and conscience which would soon exhaust itself in the face of unrewarded tasks. She was too charming as a woman to remain long as a reformer.
Mr. Farrar had guessed, with reasonable accuracy, the respective purposes which Mrs. Tracy and her daughter had in mind in sending out their dinner invitations. It was true that Mrs. Tracy, sympathizing deeply with the rector’s wife, desired to show her some attention of sufficient moment to indicate to her that her social position was intact. She said as much to her daughter Ruth in proposing the dinner.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” replied Ruth, “to have Mr. and Mrs. Farrar here. They are both delightful people, and at this time especially they ought to be made to feel at home in every one of our houses.”