“And what is that other thing you have to say, deacon?” asked Mr. Fenwick.
“You know I hold a mortgage of five hundred dollars on your house?”
“Yes.”
“I was thinkin’ of callin’ it in; but if you should be goin’ to another place, I wouldn’t mind buyin’ it if we could agree upon terms.”
“I don’t feel like discussing that question now, deacon.”
“All right. There’s plenty of time.”
Deacon Crane rose to go. As he left the house a complacent smile overspread his face. He felt that he had broached the subject successfully, and deceived the minister as to the extent of the opposition to him.
Besides, and this was no unimportant consideration, he saw that there would be a chance, in all probability, of buying the minister’s modest house at a bargain, and so making a tidy little profit for himself.
Half an hour later, Mr. Ainsworth entered the presence of the minister. He had seen Deacon Crane leaving the parsonage, and guessed his object in calling.
Lest the deacon should have misrepresented matters, he wished to have a little conference with Mr. Fenwick himself.