There was an answering mutter of “Amen”s.

“Okay,” she said, “I see everyone has gotten a clear look at the problem.” There was a sound, a kind of collective unwilling groan, from the others. “I know the question of what to do about the roof has been discussed”-she paused, trying to think of a tactful way to put it-“extensively before. Gentlemen and lady”-she nodded at silver-haired Mrs. Marshall, the only woman on the board-“the time to discuss is over. We have to act on this now before the whole aisle roof caves in on us.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Robert Corlew said.

“I think we can all agree that preserving the historic nature of St. Alban’s is a priority,” she continued. Sterling Sumner beamed at her and tightened his English school scarf-a year-round affectation-in a way that suggested a rude gesture to Corlew. Clare soldiered on. “With the extent of the damage we can see, we’re not talking about simply fixing the roof anymore. I’m sure Robert and Sterling have a much better understanding of these things than I do, but it looks as if we’re going to have to replace and repair some of the interior woodwork. Lord only knows what has to be done to the window embrasure in order to make sure the stained-glass panel remains secure. Historical accuracy, in this context, is going to mean high-level finish carpentry, a window-restoration specialist, and hand-cut Vermont slate shingles for the roof.”

“It’s going to be pricey. Very, very pricey.” Terence McKellan patted his expansive belly as if looking for spare change. The vice president for commercial loans at AllBanc, Terry was St. Alban’s financial officer.

“We have a responsibility to the future generations to preserve St. Alban’s heritage,” Mrs. Marshall said.