Again the upraised hand. "I know what you are, Captain Kendrick," said Egbert. "That, if you will permit me to say so, is why I am asking your opinion. The success of a—ah—proposition depends, as I see it, upon the amount of success achieved in proportion to the amount of energy, capital—ah—whatnot invested. Now, considering the sum needed to support the Fair Harbor—paid, as doubtless you know, Captain Kendrick, from the interest of an amount loaned and set aside by my dear wife some years ago—considering that sum, I say, added to the amount sunk, or invested, in the house, land, furnishings, et cetera, is it your opinion that the institution's success is a sufficient return? Or, might not the same sums, put into other—ah—charities, reap larger rewards? Rewards in the shape of good to our fellow men and women, Captain Kendrick? What do you think?"
Sears crossed his knees.
"I don't know," he said.
"Of course, of course. One does not know. But it is a question to be considered, is it not?"
"Why—why, yes, maybe. Do I understand that you are thinkin' of givin' up the Fair Harbor? Doin' away with it?"
"Oh, no, no, no!" Mr. Phillips pushed the surmise deeper into the background with each negative. "I am not considering anything of that sort, Captain Kendrick."
"Well—humph! My mistake again. I thought you just said you were considerin' it."
"Only as a question, Captain, only as a question. While my wife lived, of course, the Fair Harbor—her Fair Harbor—was a thing fixed, immovable. Now that she has been taken from me, it devolves upon me, the care of her trusts, her benefactions."
"Yes. So you said, Mr. Phillips."
"I believe I did say so. Yes. And therefore, as I see it, a part of that trust is to make sure that every penny of her—ah—charity is doing the greatest good to the greatest number."