The study was less ornate than the living-room. There was a business-like desk, a phonograph for dictation, a card catalogue of possible contributors to funds, a steel filing-cabinet, and the bishop’s own typewriter. The books were strictly practical: Cruden’s Concordance, Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible, an atlas of Palestine, and the three published volumes of the bishop’s own sermons. By glancing at these for not more than ten minutes, he could have an address ready for any occasion.
The bishop sank into his golden oak revolving desk-chair, pointed at his typewriter, and sighed, “From this horrid room you get a hint of how pressed I am by practical affairs. What I should like to do is to sit down quietly there at my beloved machine and produce some work of pure beauty that would last forever, where even the most urgent temporal affairs tend, perhaps, to pass away. Of course I have editorials in the Advocate, and my sermons have been published.”
He looked sharply at Elmer.
“Yes, of course, Bishop, I’ve read them!”
“That’s very kind of you. But what I’ve longed for all these years is sinfully worldly literary work. I’ve always fancied, perhaps vainly, that I have a talent—— I’ve longed to do a book, in fact a novel—— I have rather an interesting plot. You see, this farm boy, brought up in circumstances of want, with very little opportunity for education, he struggles hard for what book-learning he attains, but there in the green fields, in God’s own pure meadows, surrounded by the leafy trees and the stars overhead at night, breathing the sweet open air of the pastures, he grows up a strong, pure, and reverent young man, and of course when he goes up to the city—I had thought of having him enter the ministry, but I don’t want to make it autobiographical, so I shall have him enter a commercial line, but one of the more constructive branches of the great realm of business, say like banking. Well, he meets the daughter of his boss—she is a lovely young woman, but tempted by the manifold temptations and gaieties of the city, and I want to show how his influence guides her away from the broad paths that lead to destruction, and what a splendid effect he has not only on her but on others in the mart of affairs. Yes, I long to do that, but—— Sitting here, just us two, one almost feels as though it would be pleasant to smoke—— Do you smoke?”
“No, thanks be to God, Bishop. I can honestly say that for years I have never known the taste of nicotine or alcohol.”
“God be praised!”
“When I was younger, being kind of, you might say, a vigorous fellow, I was led now and then into temptation, but the influence of Sister Falconer—oh, there was a sanctified soul, like a nun—only strictly Protestant, of course—they so uplifted me that now I am free of all such desires.”
“I am glad to hear it, Brother, so glad to hear it. . . . Now, Gantry, the other day you said something about having thought of coming into the Methodist fold. How seriously have you thought about it?”
“Very.”