As to Clark, himself, he began to be almost invisible to the townspeople. There was nothing, after all, to bring him to town. Others came to him. And ever the call of the rapids grew louder and more dominant in his active brain. Others slept when he was awake, and his imagination, caught up in a tremendous belief in the future of the country, explored the horizon for new avenues and enterprises, while the conclusions of his prophetic mind filled him with unfailing confidence. He had now achieved the ability to arrive intuitively at results reached by others after long and arduous labor. This faculty was one of his outstanding gifts, no less than his mesmeric and communicative influence. VII.--THE BISHOP'S GARDEN PARTY--AND AFTERWARDS Some three miles down the river from the blockhouse and on the east side of St. Marys lived the bishop. Of him it might be said that, like Clark's, his reputation extended far beyond the boundaries of this northern district. But between these two, so alike in their magnetic qualities, lay a substantial difference. Clark expressed himself in large undertakings and great physical structures, while the bishop worked in the hearts of men. It was the custom of this most amiable prelate to give a garden party once a year, to which came most of the adult population of St. Marys. The house, a square gray stone block, lay at the edge of the bush and around it was a spacious lawn from which one could saunter through the vegetable garden and into the stable, and on this lawn, his hands clasped behind his back, his head bent forward in thought, the bishop might often be observed, a modern St. Francis, plunged in profound thought. Now, looking contentedly at the groups around him, he concluded that never before had his party been so well attended. Dibbott and Filmer and Bowers were there with their wives, and young Belding with the Wordens. The Presbyterian minister and the Catholic priest were admiring the strawberries, and Manson's deep voice came from a cluster of men nearby. Most of the ladies wore spotless white dresses that crackled as they moved. In the study the bishop's desk was obliterated by dishes of strawberries and cream, and at the front gate the hired man took charge of the buggies and tethered the horses to the long fence of the pasture field. Three hundred yards away the river sparkled in a clear, light blue. It was all very bright and animated. Presently the bishop caught the young engineer's eyes and beckoned. "Mr. Belding," he said, smiling, "I'm aware that you're very much occupied just now with important things, but I've been wondering, just the same, if you'd help me with something." "What is it, Bishop?" "I want a pro-cathedral, which is, as you know, that which does instead of a cathedral. Every summer the church here seems to get smaller, and I believe I could fill a bigger one."