"We have good business men on the vestry," Dr. Rannage proudly explained, "and that is the main reason why we are in such excellent financial condition. They have been most careful to invest all moneys where they bring in big returns."
"What did they give me this for, then?" Douglas asked as he held forth the cheque. "It must have wrung their souls to part with one hundred dollars for nothing."
"Oh, that was given merely out of appreciation for your good work in the parish."
"Since when have they become appreciative?"
"Why, haven't they been always so?"
"If they were, they never showed any signs of it. It seemed to me just the opposite, especially when I asked them for a few hundred dollars last fall to rent a building as a shelter for the unfortunate on the water-front. They told me pretty plainly what they thought of my 'new-fangled notion,' as they called it."
"They were merely cautious, that was all," Dr. Rannage defended. "As I told you, they are all good business men, and they wished to be sure that the investment would, ah——"
"Pay," Douglas assisted, as his rector hesitated. "Yes, that was just it. They thought it wouldn't pay in dollars and cents, so they refused to have anything to do with it. The return in lives helped and souls saved did not trouble them in the least. But now, when they know that I am going, perhaps they may have had a twinge of conscience; that is, if they have any, and what they have given me is nothing more than conscience money."
These words brought Dr. Rannage suddenly to his feet. He had always prided himself upon his self-control, but such a charge made by any man, especially a mere curate, was more than he could endure.
"What do you mean by talking that way?" he demanded. "Ever since you entered this room you have been as ugly as——"