THE MAKING OF A BIGOT THE MAKING OF A BIGOT BY ROSE MACAULAY Author of “The Lee Shore,” “Views and Vagabonds,” etc. HODDER AND STOUGHTON LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO TO D. F. C. “How various is man! How multiplied his experience, his outlook, his conclusions!”--H. BELLOC. “And every single one of them is right.”--R. KIPLING. “The rational human faith must armour itself with prejudice in an age of prejudices.”--G. K. CHESTERTON. CONTENTS PAGE CHAPTER I. CAMBRIDGE 9 CHAPTER II. ST. GREGORY’S 21 CHAPTER III. PLEASANCE COURT 38 CHAPTER IV. HEATHERMERE 52 CHAPTER V. DATCHERD AND THE VICAR 62 CHAPTER VI. THE DEANERY AND THE HALL 80 CHAPTER VII. VISITORS AT THE DEANERY 102 CHAPTER VIII. THE VISITORS GO 127 CHAPTER IX. THE CLUB 142 CHAPTER X. DATCHERD’S RETURN 167 CHAPTER XI. THE COUNTRY 189 CHAPTER XII. HYDE PARK TERRACE 209 CHAPTER XIII. MOLLY 230 CHAPTER XIV. UNITY 254 CHAPTER XV. ARNOLD 270 CHAPTER XVI. EILEEN 276 CHAPTER XVII. CONVERSION 286 CHAPTER I. CAMBRIDGE. It was Trinity Sunday, full of buttercups and cuckoos and the sun. In Cambridge it was a Scarlet Day. In colleges, people struggling through a desert of Tripos papers or Mays rested their souls for a brief space in a green oasis, and took their lunch up the river. In Sunday schools, teachers were telling of the shamrock, that ill-considered and peculiarly inappropriate image conceived by a hard-pressed saint. Everywhere people were being ordained. Miss Jamison met Eddy Oliver in Petty Cury, while she was doing some house-to-house visiting with a bundle of leaflets that looked like tracts. She looked at him vaguely, then suddenly began to take an interest in him. “Of course,” she said, with decision, “you’ve got to join, too.” “Rather,” he said. “Tell me what it is. I’m sure it’s full of truth.” “It’s the National Service League. I’m a working associate, and I’m persuading people to join. It’s a good thing, really. Were you at the meeting yesterday?” “No, I missed that. I was at another meeting, in point of fact. I often am, you know.” He said it with a touch of mild perplexity. It was so true. She was turning over the sheaf of tracts.