He held her for an instant in his arms, and she trembled. When at length he strode off in his masterful and imperious way, her father stood in the porch and called her. He had seen nothing of this curiously "worldly" scene, and was full of a letter he had just received from the Archbishop of Canterbury. This invited him to a Conference at the Mansion House, and he pointed out with satisfaction that it had been written at the archiepiscopal palace at Lambeth.
"This movement may not bring all the nations in, or make them dwell together in harmony and peace, he said, "but it will certainly bring peace to the churches. Of course, they will ask me to speak, Gabrielle."
"When is it for, father?" she asked him.
"In ten days' time—at the Mansion House."
"You will have to get a typewriter; I shall be at Richmond."
"I think it is better. I should not like Sir Jules or Mr. Faber to know that you do such work, Gabrielle."
"Oh," she said with a light laugh, "I don't think they would be shocked, father. They are both self-made men."
"Yes, but self-made men rarely like self-made women. It's the way of the world. If we go to America——"
"But you do not intend to accept the call from Yonkers, father?"
He shook his head.