"Oh yes, he will. You're a parson, and he is old enough to be afraid of the next world. Tell him we're cleaned out, and get Jim and me a thousand. And I tell you what," added Leah, generously. "If you do, I'll give you a ten-pound note for your charities, though I don't believe in helping paupers myself."
"Yet you ask help on that ground."
"Oh, I mean the unwashed paupers you're so fond of."
Lionel ruminated. "Do you and Jim go down to Firmingham for Christmas?"
"Yes. It will be horribly dull. The Duke is so fond of that old-fashioned Dickens Christmas, with its holly and mistletoe rubbish; but we must keep in with him. What of it?"
"Why not explain your position, and----?"
"Oh, we've explained it a dozen times. But the Duke doesn't seem to understand. Now, you can put the thing to him nicely."
"Well," said the curate, slowly. "I go to Firmingham at Christmas to preach, so I'll speak to the Duke."
"You're a brick," cried Lady Jim, holding out her hand. "I'll come and hear you preach when we're in Firmingham."
"I hope it will do you good," said Lionel, shaking hands. "You think me a prig, Lady James, but I assure you----"