“Yes, but in God’s chapel, dear lady, all such distinctions should be forgotten.”

“They can’t forget, and I don’t blame them much, poor things, do you?  It’s the free-born American spirit.  There now, Mr. Glynn, you were asking me yesterday to suggest some one for junior warden.  Why not Mr. Babcock?  They’re new comers and seem available people.”

Mr. Glynn’s distress at her first question was merged in the interest inspired by her second, for his glance had followed hers until it rested on the Babcocks, who had just entered the vestry to attend the social reunion.  Selma’s face wore its worried archangel aspect.  She was on her good behavior and proudly on her guard against social impertinence.  But she looked very pretty, and her compact, slight figure indicated a busy way.

“I will interrogate him,” he answered.  “I have observed them before, and—­and I can’t quite make out the wife.  It is almost a spiritual face, and yet—­”

“Just a little hard and keen,” broke in Mrs. Taylor, upon his hesitation.  “She is pretty, and she looks clever.  I think we can get some work out of her.”

Thereupon she sailed gracefully in the direction of Selma.  Mrs. Taylor was from Maryland.  Her husband, a physician, had come to Benham at the close of the war to build up a practice, and his wife had aided him by her energy and graciousness to make friends.  Unlike some Southerners, she was not indolent, and yet she possessed all the ingratiating, spontaneous charm of well-bred women from that section of the country.  Her tastes were aesthetic and ethical rather than intellectual, and her special interest at the moment was the welfare of the church.  She thought it desirable that all the elements of which the congregation was composed should be represented on the committees, and Selma seemed to her the most obviously available person from the class to which the Babcocks belonged.

“I want you to help us,” she said.  “I think you have ideas.  We need a woman with sense and ideas on our committee to build the new church.”

Selma was not used to easy grace and sprightly spontaneity.  It affected her at first much as the touch of man; but just as in that instance the experience was agreeable.  Life was too serious a thing in her regard to lend itself casually to lightness, and yet she felt instinctively attracted by this lack of self-consciousness and self-restraint.  Besides here was an opportunity such as she had been yearning for.  She had met Mrs. Taylor before, and knew her to be the presiding genius of the congregation; and it was evident that Mrs. Taylor had discovered her value.

“Thank you,” she said, gravely, but cordially.  “That is what I should like.  I wish to be of use.  I shall be pleased to serve on the committee.”

“It will be interesting, I think.  I have never helped build anything before.  Perhaps you have?”

“No,” said Selma slowly.  Her tone conveyed the impression that, though her abilities had never been put to that precise test, the employment seemed easily within her capacity.