“Yes, but other things can’t be neglected. You have no business to leave alone what you think you can do, for anything else. One’s talents, whatever they are, are given one to use.”
“But is there not ‘that good part’?” asked May.
Ted walked on in silence a little way.
“I did not know you thought of it like that,” he said at length. “Do you admit no call but that of saving souls directly by your means?”
“I didn’t know I felt it myself, till we came here,” said May; “until I saw this place so absolutely uncared for. Look at the rich people, too. Old Mr. Carlingford is very liberal, because he is very rich; but he never comes to church.”
“Ah, that reminds me,” said Ted. “Tom is coming home soon, in about a fortnight, he said.”
May paused on the doorstep.
“I suppose he will come here, won’t he? I didn’t know he was coming back so early.”
And she turned rather quickly, and went into the house.
The new curate soon came, and fulfilled to the utmost all the admirable accounts of himself which had led to his engagement. He was strong and vigorous, and exerted all his vigour and strength in the work to which he had been called. He was even bold enough to pay a visit to Mr. Carlingford single-handed, and the latter gentleman conversed to him very fluently and agreeably for half an hour on the coal-strike, and the lamentable weakness of the English fleet in the Mediterranean, offered to draw a cheque then and there to supply coal for villagers who were unable to have fires in this very nipping weather, and courteously declined to interest himself any further.