"It has become necessary to enforce the laws of the church," explained Graves, "and I have taken up this matter with some of the members--also with your wife."
Mr. Hall dropped his eyes upon his left hand with the fingers of which he was bending back those of his right.
"And what did she say?"
"I think it will be necessary for you to talk with her, Hall; surely you have enough influence over her to make her see that it is absolutely necessary that women should cease their--"
"I thought, Dominie," broke in the deacon, "that we had long outgrown such notions. You had better let matters go on as they are."
The minister shook his head emphatically, and looked searchingly at his parishioner.
"Fact is, Mr. Hall, you know that it is not a personal thing with me, but for the good of the church. Hopkins has left and Carey only comes when he feels like it. Several others stay away without a place to worship, simply because the ladies will have their way. I have no trouble with my wife and no man would if he were to demand obedience as God says that he should. I shall preach upon it Sunday."
"Don't make it too strong," ventured Hall, thinking of his beautiful wife.
As far as he was concerned it made no difference whether women were silent or not, whether they wore hats to church or came in with bare heads. He was happy in his home life, and was not willing to bring about discord by arguments that meant nothing to him. When the church matter had come up before, he had acquiesced without a word, had watched the fight as it progressed, and when it ended had settled back to enjoy peace--a happy official of Ithaca's gas company.
He looked out under his brows at the clergyman, as he fingered the paper-cutter on his desk. He took it up mechanically and read the inscription on the handle: "From me to you."
His wife had given it to him, and Hall mentally wondered if the woman who could think of, and would dare to use, such a unique expression would be frightened by a word from him.
Without asking Augusta, the husband knew that his wife would be the first woman to rise to speak next Wednesday evening. This much he intimated to Graves. An expression of sarcasm flitted over the clergyman's countenance, but it quickly vanished--Graves was trying to add to his strong friends that day. He only remarked that he hoped it would be settled amicably. The president ventured another shot: "Dominie, there's a complete turn in the affairs of Skinner; he says that he did not commit the murder--that he positively did not pick up the gun from the shore. Simply because he owned the gun is no proof that he used it. Young says--"