“A thousand pounds! Just fancy that—a thousand pounds! And some people say he is so difficult,” she went on, dropping her voice. “Mrs. Hungerford came all the way over from Norwich to beg for the infirmary there, and he gave her nothing.”
“What was his excuse?” Hamel asked.
“I think he told her that it was against his principles to give to hospitals,” Lady Saxthorpe replied. “He thinks that they should be supported out of the rates.”
“Some people have queer ideas of charity,” Hamel remarked. “Now I am afraid that if I had been Mr. Fentolin, I would have given the thousand pounds willingly to a hospital, but not a penny to a mission.”
Mr. Fentolin looked suddenly down the table. He was some distance away, but his hearing was wonderful.
“Ah, my dear Hamel,” he said, “believe me, missions are very wonderful things. It is only from a very careful study of their results that I have brought myself to be a considerable supporter of those where I have some personal knowledge of the organisation. Hospitals, on the other hand, provide for the poor what they ought to be able to provide for themselves. The one thing to avoid in the giving away of money is pauperisation. What do you think, Florence?”
His sister-in-law, who was seated at the other end of the table, looked across at him with a bright but stereotyped smile.
“I agree with you, of course, Miles. I always agree with you. Mr. Fentolin has the knack of being right about most things,” she continued, turning to Lord Saxthorpe. “His judgment is really wonderful.”
“Wish we could get him to come and sit on the bench sometimes, then,” Lord Saxthorpe remarked heartily. “Our neighbours in this part of the world are not overburdened with brains. By-the-by,” he went on, “that reminds me. You haven’t got such a thing as a mysterious invalid in the house, have you?”
There was a moment’s rather curious silence. Mr. Fentolin was sitting like a carved figure, with a glass of wine half raised to his lips. Gerald had broken off in the middle of a sentence and was staring at Lord Saxthorpe. Esther was sitting perfectly still, her face grave and calm, her eyes alone full of fear. Lord Saxthorpe was not an observant man and he continued, quite unconscious of the sensation which his question had aroused.