"Well," went on the deep voice, "these Indians profess the Christian faith, yet they get into their bark canoes and paddle twelve miles against the wind and up stream with a petition that I do something that is dead against that faith, I mean the blessing of a bullet to arm it with supernatural power. Our friend, Mr. Clark, on the other hand, does not, so far as I know, profess any faith at all, though I should undoubtedly be asked to bury him should such a thing be unfortunately necessary, yet he does many things that I consider admirable without asking any blessing or unction or special recognition of any kind. I cannot see him, for instance, as a man who would use his friends for his own advantage or their money for his personal profit. In fact," he hesitated a little and then continued with that utter candor which characterized his entire life--"what I hope for our church is that it may so present its message and carry out its mission that it will ultimately attract just the type of notable men as the one of which we speak. And now, since this begins to border on a theological discussion, let us have some strawberries and cream. They are my own berries, and the cream, Mr. Filmer, is the product of that excellent yearling you were kind enough to send me last summer." They moved into the study and were presently joined by Mrs. Dibbott and Mrs. Worden. "We have seen the yacht," said the latter enthusiastically, "and she is lovely, but how do you pronounce her name?" The Bishop's eyes twinkled--"Just now it's Z-e-n-o-b-i-a, but that's the name of a heathen queen and I don't believe the Synod would stand for it. Can you ladies suggest something more suitable? You know what her work will be." Mrs. Dibbott thought hard, and Mrs. Worden's gray eyes grew soft. Admirable women were these, staunch and loyal, the helpmates of men through lonely years that had passed in St. Marys. But too often the men did not realize this till the shadows lengthened. "She'll be a messenger, won't she?" said Mrs. Worden. "Of hope and comfort, if I can make her so," he answered gently. "I can regularly reach places now that it was very hard to get at before." There fell a little silence, while, to the rest came the picture of this wise man and true, cruising in storm and sunshine through the myriad islands of his diocese, with his good cheer and his understanding heart and his great tenderness for all living beings. "May I make you a flag?" said Mrs. Dibbott presently. "Splendid, I haven't one. You might put on my crest. It's an Irish one with a complete menagerie of animals." "And some of the rest of us will provide the linen," added Mrs. Worden, who was a famous housekeeper.