many words how generous the members of the vestry really are."

Douglas took the cheque in his hand and studied it very carefully. In fact, he looked at it so long without saying anything that Dr. Rannage was surprised.

"Are you not satisfied with it?" he curtly asked, noting the flush which was slowly stealing over Douglas' face. "I took it upon myself to ask something for you, thinking that it would give you considerable pleasure."

"I am not considering the amount of the cheque," Douglas replied, "but something far more important. St. Margaret's is a rich church, is it not?"

"Yes, I suppose so," was the reluctant assent.

"The richest in the city?"

"Yes. But what has that to do with that cheque?" Dr. Rannage angrily retorted.

"It is heavily endowed, and there was a big surplus last Easter, according to the Year Book," Douglas continued, unheeding his rector's annoyance.

"We have good business men on the vestry," Dr. Rannage proudly explained, "and that is the main reason why we are in such excellent financial condition. They have been most careful to invest all moneys where they bring in big returns."

"What did they give me this for, then?" Douglas asked as he held forth the cheque. "It must have wrung their souls to part with one hundred dollars for nothing."

"Oh, that was given merely out of appreciation for your good work in the parish."

"Since when have they become appreciative?"

"Why, haven't they been always so?"

"If they were, they never showed any signs of it. It seemed to me just the opposite, especially when I asked them for a few hundred dollars last fall to rent a building as a shelter for the unfortunate on the water-front. They told me pretty plainly what they thought of my 'new-fangled notion,' as they called it."

"They were merely cautious, that was all," Dr. Rannage defended. "As I told you, they are all good business men, and they wished to be sure that the investment would, ah——"

"Pay," Douglas assisted, as his rector hesitated. "Yes, that was just it. They thought it wouldn't pay in dollars and cents, so they refused to have anything to do with it. The return in lives helped and souls saved did not trouble them in the least. But now, when they know that I am going, perhaps they may have had a twinge of conscience; that is, if they have any, and what they have given me is nothing more than conscience money."

These words brought Dr. Rannage suddenly to his feet. He had always prided himself upon his self-control, but such a charge made by any man, especially a mere curate, was more than he could endure.

"What do you mean by talking that way?" he demanded. "Ever since you entered this room you have been as ugly as——"

"The devil," Douglas assisted as Dr. Rannage paused. "You might as well say it as think it. If telling the truth, and telling it plainly is being ugly, then I plead guilty. I question if what I have said will be of any benefit to you, but it has done a great deal of good to me. It has somewhat relieved my mind, and that is worth something."

"You will relieve my mind, if you will go," Dr. Rannage retorted. "It is absolutely ridiculous that I should be talked to in this manner, especially after what I have done for you."

"Oh, you mean this?" and Douglas glanced at the cheque. "Well, then, I wish to show you and the members of the vestry how I value such, ahem, appreciation. Look!"

Holding the cheque up with both hands, he deliberately tore it into bits, and then, crossing the room, he threw the pieces into the fireplace.

"There, I feel better now," he quietly remarked. "So, good-night."

Before Dr. Rannage could recover from his astonishment, the study door opened and closed, and Douglas Stanton was gone.

CHAPTER IV

SECRET PLANS

"Hello! what's the rush?"

Douglas Stanton stopped short, and a smile overspread his face as he turned it upon the beaming countenance of the man standing before him.

"Oh, it's you, Garton, is it? I didn't see you."

"You certainly didn't. Why, you were cutting a two-forty clip."

"I'm late for tea," Douglas explained.

"So am I," Garton returned. "Just before I left the office, I was called down to the drill-shed to make a presentation to one of our men who is about to get married. Kit will be furious with me for staying so long. Women don't like to be kept waiting, you know. Kit doesn't, anyway. She says the kids will make it hot for me when I get home."

"You're a lucky brute, Garton, to have a home to go to, and a wife and such kids as yours."

"I certainly am. But, say, Stanton, come and have dinner with us."

"How can I? Your wife won't be expecting me, and I shall be intruding."

"Look here, old man," and Garton laid his hand affectionately upon his companion's shoulder, "don't you know that you are always welcome at our house? Kit will be delighted to see you, and the kids will go about crazy. They will be more than surprised, for we were afraid that we had seen the last of you."

"Well, I'll go, then," Douglas assented, and the two started off at a rapid pace.

"So you have decided to leave?" Garton asked, after they had gone a short distance.

"You've heard the news, then?" Douglas queried.

"Sure; though I doubted it at first."

"Yes, I'm going. I've just had a talk with the Bishop, and that was what kept me late."

"What did he say?"

"Oh, he doesn't mind. I'm too small a fish for him to worry about. He was so busy all the afternoon that I was kept waiting until the eleventh hour, and accordingly was favoured with only a few minutes."

Garton detected the note of bitterness in his companion's voice, and did not question him any further just then. When at length within the house, and taken possession of by the Garton "kids"—two boys and a girl—Douglas became entirely changed. There was a lively romp first of all, and it was with difficulty that Mrs. Garton could induce the children to release their victim long enough to come to dinner. Then, at the table there was a contest as to who should sit next to the guest.

It was a happy family into which Douglas had entered. This was the one home in the whole city where he could feel perfectly at his ease, for he knew that he was sincerely welcome. Ever since his coming to St. Margaret's, Charles Garton had been his firm friend. Notwithstanding his big legal practice, this brilliant lawyer was always ready and willing to assist the young curate, and Douglas found it a great comfort to go to him for advice.

"I am afraid that I am a great intruder to-night," he told Mrs. Garton.
"But you must blame your husband this time."

"I shall absolve him from all his past sins for bringing you," was the smiling reply. "We were afraid that you were going to leave the city without coming to bid us good-bye."

"I hope I am not so ungrateful as that, after all your kindness to me."

"We shall miss you very much, Mr. Stanton. I hardly know how the children will get along without you."

"Oh, I shall drop in on you one of these days when you're least expecting me."

"Are you going far away?"

"Merely to Rixton."