Part 37 (1/2)

Norham suppressed a slight yawn as he turned in his chair.

”The House of Commons, alas!--never shows to advantage in an ecclesiastical debate. You'd think it was in the condition of Sydney Smith with a cold--not sure whether there were nine Articles and Thirty-Nine Muses--or the other way on!”

Meynell looked at the Secretary of State in silence--his eyes twinkling.

He had heard from various friends of this touch of insolence in Norham.

He awaited its disappearance.

Edward Norham was a man still young; under forty indeed, though marked prematurely by hard work and hard fighting. His black hair had receded on the temples, and was obviously thinning on the crown of the head; he wore spectacles, and his shoulders had taken the stoop of office work. But the eyes behind the spectacles lost nothing that they desired to see; and the general impression was one of bull-dog strength, which could be impertinent and aggressive, and could also masque itself in a good humour and charm by no means insincere. In his political career, he was on the eve of great things; and he would owe them mainly to a power of work, supreme even in these hard-driven days. This power of work enabled him to glean in many fields, and keep his eye on many chances that his colleagues perforce neglected. The Modernist Movement was one of these chances. For years he had foreseen great changes ahead in the relations of Church and State, and this group of men seemed to be forcing the pace.

Suddenly, as his eyes perused the strong humanity of the face beside him, Norham changed his manner. He sat up and put down the paper-knife he had been teasing. As he did so there was a little crash at his elbow and something rolled on the floor.

”What's that?”

”No harm done,” said Meynell, stooping--”one of our host's Greek coins.

What a beauty!” He picked up the little case and the coin which had rolled out of it--a gold coin of Velia, with a head of Athene--one of the great prizes of the collector.

Norham took it with eagerness. He was a Cambridge man, and a fine scholar, and such things delighted him.

”I didn't know Flaxman cared for these things.”

”He inherited them,” said Meynell, pointing to the open cabinet on the table. ”But he loves them too. Mrs. Flaxman always has them put out on great occasions. It seems to me they ought to have a watcher! They are quite priceless, I believe. Such things are soon lost.”

”Oh!--they are safe enough here,” said Norham, returning the coin to its place, with another loving look at it. Then, with an effort, he pulled himself together, and with great rapidity began to question his companion as to the details and progress of the Movement. All the facts up to date, the number of Reformers enrolled since the foundation of the League, the League's finances, the astonis.h.i.+ng growth of its pet.i.tion to Parliament, the progress of the Movement in the Universities, among the ardent and intellectual youth of the day, its spread from week to week among the clergy: these things came out steadily and clearly in Meynell's replies.

”The League was started in July--it is now October. We have fifty thousand enrolled members, all communicants in Modernist churches.

Meetings and demonstrations are being arranged at this moment all over England; and in January or February there will be a formal inauguration of the new Liturgy in Dunchester Cathedral.”

”Heavens!” said Norham, dropping all signs of languor. ”Dunchester will venture it?”

Meynell made a sign of a.s.sent.

”It is of course possible that the episcopal proceedings against the Bishop, which, as you see, have just begun, may have been brought to a close, and that the Cathedral may be no longer at our disposal, but--”

”The Dean, surely, has power to close it!”

”The Dean has come over to us, and the majority of the Canons.”

Norham threw back his head with a laugh of amazement.

”The first time in history that a Dean has been of the same opinion as his Bishop! Upon my word, the government has been badly informed or I have not kept up. I had no idea--simply no idea--that things had gone so far. Markborough of course gives us very different accounts--he and the Bishops acting with him.”

”A great deal is going on which our Bishop here is quite unaware of.”

”You can substantiate what you have been saying?”

”I will send you papers to-morrow morning. But of course”--added Meynell, after a pause--”a great many of us will be out of our berths, in a few months, temporarily at least. It will rest with Parliament whether we remain so!”

”The Non-Jurors of the twentieth century!” murmured Norham, with a half-sceptical intonation.