In the churchyard he had seen only the other side of the question. Now he was realising how much was meant in the lives of Old Maxham people by the self-denying gifts for which he had pleaded so strongly.
"I don't see it so, sir. And if you don't mind me saying it, I doubt if you do either."
The Vicar smiled. "No, you are right," he said. "I do not really, perhaps. It was no hardship for your dear ones to be called home as they were. The only hardship was for you—not for them. We may be very sure that they would not wish to come back here, if the choice could be given them. It has been a sore trial for you to lose them, but you may indeed be thankful,—both for them and for yourself."
Mildred's eyes were full. She wiped away the tears, and said simply,—"I do try."
After Mildred's departure, in walked the doctor.
"Now, I say, Gilbert, this sort of thing won't do," Mr. Bateson. "You're enough to worm a toad out of a stone. As for giving more, I can't afford it, of course,—but there's no resisting you. Here,—" and he slipped a gold coin into the Vicar's hand. "You may have that, and that's all. Can't do more. There's no end of broth and good things wanted just now among my poorer patients. Glad to do all I can, but limits must exist. Well—I hope you'll succeed in the end. Nothing like perseverance. I've tried to stir the sensibilities of a patient of mine, just come down from London; perhaps I ought to call him a 'paying guest,' rather than a patient. One might as well try to rouse a log to generosity. He really isn't badly off, and he might have spared you at least a few shillings. He didn't seem to look upon the matter in that light: and one man can't see with another man's eyes. Good-day, and don't make yourself ill over this business."
Then was ushered in Alice Mokes, the silent and useful daughter whom everybody liked and few knew well. She had no message from her father, but she brought two shillings out of her own little store. "I wish it was more," she said sadly. "I haven't much."
"That makes the more of the little that you can give, Alice."
"I'd make it more if I could," she said, hardly grasping his meaning. "I did think father might—but—"
"No hope in that direction, I suppose?"