"There is not a person in the place that I like better than that sunny-faced little Mrs. Groates," the Vicar remarked over his afternoon cup of tea. "She is the very essence of content and good-humour. If nobody ever grumbled more than Mrs. Groates grumbles, the world would be quite another sort of place."
"You had better preach a sermon on that subject."
"Something else must come first. Here we are, well on in the autumn, with winter storms near at hand, and not one penny laid aside for a lifeboat. It won't do. That must be my business."
"Who ought to have seen to it?"
"Anybody. That too often means nobody. So I mean to make it my business."
"It will be a troublesome one, I am afraid."
"And if so—what then? We are sent into the world to take trouble."
"How much do you suppose a lifeboat will cost?"
"Can't say exactly. I have to find out all particulars. Several hundreds of pounds, I should imagine. All the more need not to delay."
"You don't suppose you will get it in time for this winter?"