Imrie's impulsive resignation from St. Viateur's was not treated at all seriously by the vestry. "The natural impetuousness of youth," observed Mr. Corey, not a little virtuously; for Mr. Corey had never been impetuous in his life. The other gentlemen quite agreed with him.
Judge Wolcott was magnanimous. "For my part, I believe in letting bygones be bygones."
Mr. Aishton, who was very thin and dry, giving the curious impression of never having experienced youth, was more explicit. "It's new ideas—unassimilated," he declared. "His years make him restive. A little guidance—that is all—merely guidance!"
Mr. Podgers was the only hesitant one. He was very large and rubicund, with a resonant voice and a gusty dominant manner. He was extremely rich and entirely self made, with the process still somewhat incomplete. Most of his life had been devoted to the single-handed task of besting his fellow men, and, until success, with its automobiles and ten servants and social responsibilities, had arrived, matters theological had been of absolute unimportance. Now, however, he was quite the most orthodox member of the vestry, which, to be sure, was very desirable in one whose contributions were so large. There was really nothing illogical or surprising in the fact that faith and a set of ancestors came to Mr. Podgers simultaneously with his distinction as a manufacturer of therapeutic alcohol.
"I am not at all in favour," he said with profound conviction, "of permitting even slightly lax doctrine to gain currency. The faith must be kept pure. The Church must be preserved. Otherwise ..." Mr. Podgers did not deign to indicate what shocking things might eventuate. That the others shared his apprehension was evident from their knitted brows and shaking heads.
But Mr. Podgers, having expressed his opinion and made clear his unimpeachable conservatism, was anxious to get back to business, where conservatism, a little of which, after all, went a very long way, was not so necessary. So he rose.
"I think Mr. Imrie can be informed that his resignation will not be accepted."
"Undoubtedly," echoed Mr. Campbell, who was Mr. Podgers' legal adviser, though he took more advice than he gave. "I think no one questions that." He surveyed the others as if daring anyone to question it. No one did.
"I will talk to him again," said Judge Wolcott. "Like a father," he added benevolently.
The other gentlemen accepted his suggestion with alacrity. Aside from a reluctance at wasting valuable time in such a comparatively unimportant matter, there was a natural distaste for the possibility of unpleasantness. It was quickly decided, therefore, that the Judge should be the vestry's vehicle of "guidance."