The introduction was
acknowledged with a word or a cool nod and an unintelligible murmur of
something that meant nothing, or--worse--with a patronizing air, a sham
cordiality elaborately assumed, which said plainly "I acknowledge the
introduction here, because this is the Lord's business. You will be sure
please, that you make no mistake should we chance to meet again." And
immediately the new arrival would produce the modern weapon of the
Christian warfare, needle, thread and thimble; and--hurrying to the side
of some valiant comrade of her own set--join bravely in the fray.
That quilt was attacked with a spirit that was worth at least a half
column in the denominational weekly, while the sound of the conflict
might almost have been heard as far as Widow Mulhall's garden where
Denny was cheerily digging away, with his one good side, while the
useless, crippled arm swung from the twisted shoulder.
To Miss Farwell sitting quietly--unobserved, but observing--there came a
confused sound of many voices speaking at once, with now and then a
sentence in a tone stronger than the common din.
"She said the Memorial Church didn't believe in the Spirit anyhow, and
that all we wanted was to get 'em in ... I told them that Brother
Matthews would surely be getting some of their folks before the year was
out, if they kept on coming to our services ... I says, says I--'Brother
Matthews never said that; you'd better read your Bible. If you can show
me in the Book where you get your authority for it, I'll quit the
Memorial Church right then and join yours' .
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