“Well,” the lawyer continued sententiously, “we have had all sorts and conditions of men, as the Prayer Book says; and the result has not always been satisfactory—not always satisfactory. But I was not consulted.”
To this, Maxwell, who was somewhat nettled, replied:
“I suppose that in any case the responsibility for the success of a parish must be somewhat divided between the parson and the people. I am sure I may count on your assistance.”
“Oh yes; oh yes; of course. I shall be very glad to advise you in any way I can. Prevention is better than cure: don’t hesitate to come to me for suggestions. You will doubtless be anxious to follow in the good old ways, and avoid extremes. I am a firm believer in expediency. Though I was not consulted in 42 the present appointment, I may say that what we need is a man of moderate views who can adjust himself to circumstances. Tact, that is the great thing in life. I am a firm believer in tact. Our resources are limited; and a clergyman should be a self-denying man of God, contented with plain living and high thinking. No man can succeed in a country parish who seeks the loaves and fishes of the worldling. Durford is not a metropolis; we do not emulate city ways.”
“No, I should imagine not,” Maxwell answered.
The parson gathered that the Senior Warden felt slighted that he had not been asked by the Bishop to name his appointee; and that if he had bethought himself to sprinkle a little hay-seed on his clothing, his reception might have been more cordial.
At this point the door opened and a woman, hovering somewhere between twenty-five and forty, dressed in rather youthful and pronounced attire, entered, and seeing Donald exclaimed:
“Oh, papa, I did not know that you were busy with a client. Do excuse me.”
Then, observing the clerical attire of the “client,” she came forward, and extending her hand to Donald, exclaimed with a coy, insinuating smile:
“I am sure that you must be Mr. Maxwell. I am 43 so glad to see you. I hope I am not interrupting professional confidences.”