The sad-hearted man stared at the curate.
"How is a man to do any thing whom God has forsaken?" he said.
"If He had forsaken you, for as dreary work as it would be, you would have to try to do your duty notwithstanding. But He has not forsaken you. He has given you a very sharp lesson, I grant, and as such you must take it, but that is the very opposite of forsaking you. He has let you know what it is not to trust in Him, and what it would be to have money that did not come from His hand. You did not conquer in the fight with Mammon when you were poor, and God has given you another chance: He expects you to get the better of him now you are rich. If God had forsaken you, I should have found you strutting about and glorying over imagined enemies."
"Do you really think that is the mind of God toward me?" cried the poor man, starting half up in bed. "Do you think so?" he repeated, staring at the curate almost as wildly as at first, but with a different expression.
"I do," said Wingfold; "and it will be a bad job indeed if you fail in both trials. But that I am sure you will not. It is your business now to get this money into your hands as soon as possible, and proceed to spend it."
"Would there be any harm in ordering a few things from the tradespeople?" asked Dorothy.
"How should there be?" returned Wingfold.
"Because, you see," answered Dorothy, "we can't be sure of a bird in the bush."
"Can you be sure of it in your hands? It may spread its wings when you least expect it. But Helen will be delighted to take the risk—up to a few hundreds," he added laughing.
"Somebody may dispute the will: they do sometimes," said Dorothy.