Belding nodded. He found it hard to join in the happiness of another man whose children's arms were about his neck. Elsie's eyes turned to the figure of the bishop, who was on his wide veranda, a large straw hat on the back of his head. Manuscript lay on the floor beside him but at the moment he was absorbed in a large green leaf that spread across his knees. It was piled with strawberries. As the gate clicked he signaled hospitably. "Come along, children--just in time. Mr. Belding, can you pick fruit by moonlight? Elsie, come here and talk to me. To tell the truth I wasn't thinking just now of any of my flock, but I'd much sooner see a lamb like you than some of the old ewes who will always insist on being serious and respectful. What you observe on the floor is a book I would have written if I'd not been a bishop." He rambled on till Belding reappeared with a hat full of berries. "Here they are, sir, and I've got another offering as well." "You don't say so, what is it?" "Do you remember, a year or so ago, talking to me about a pro-cathedral?" "Very distinctly. But I was afraid that the press of work had made the thing impossible so far as you were concerned, so I let the matter stand." "Well, it isn't impossible, and that church is going to be built." The bishop drew a long breath. "I am delighted to hear it, because I haven't got any money yet. It has all gone in salaries of missionaries, and your friend Mr. Clark has put me to a lot of extra expense. I knew he would the minute I saw him." "But this church," said Belding with a little lift in his voice, "is going to be built without money. Peterson, the masonry contractor at the works, will give the stone, and his masons will donate the labor. Borthwick, another contractor, will give the lumber and his carpenters will put it together. Windows--plain glass of course--and the various fittings are all taken care of by different people, and there was just one thing I found a little difficult, and now that's all right." "And what was it?" The bishop was leaning forward, his large, expressive eyes very bright. "Cement, sir. No one seemed to have any to spare. Finally I went to Ryan--I don't know whether he has met you." "Yes, an excellent type--one of my own countrymen. I like Ryan, a strong Romanist, isn't he?" "Yes, but finally I ran him down and told him I wanted enough cement to build a Protestant church." "But---" "But, listen! Ryan thought it over for a minute, then his eyes began to twinkle and he pointed to his storehouse and said that if it would cement the Protestant church together I might take the pile." Elsie laughed, while the bishop relapsed into deep body-shaking mirth. "Splendid! Fine chap that Ryan. He's from Maynooth and I'm from Lurgan and who says the Irish don't hang together? So it's all settled?" "Yes, when can we start work?" "At once if it's possible. How long will it take?"