"You have no poor, then?"
"Not in this congregation. The fact is this church is not very well suited to them. They don't mix with our people. You see our class of people—of course, we are doing a great work among the poor, our chapels—we have three, one of them, indeed, is a church and larger than many independent churches. Another has given me some anxiety, but the third is doing quite a remarkable work among the working people out in the east end—that under my assistant, the young man you interested yourself so much in last year—and which your ball committee was good enough to consider in selecting the object of its benevolence."
"Yes, I know—Mr. Marvel. I will go out there."
"Oh! my dear, you couldn't go out there!"
"Why not? I want to see him."
"Why, it is away out on the edge of the city—what you might call the jumping-off place—among manufactories and railroad shops."
"Yes, I know. I have been out there."
"You have—why, it is away out. It is on—I don't recall the name of the street. It's away out. I know it's near the street-car terminus that your family own. It's a very pretty chapel indeed. Don't you think so? It is natural that you should take an interest in it, as your aunt, Mrs. Argand, helped us to build it. She gave the largest contribution toward it. I don't know what we should do without charitable women like her."
"Yes, I know. And Mr. Marvel is coming on well?"
A change came over the face of the rector. "Oh, very well—rather an ungainly fellow and very slow, but doing a very good work for our parish. I have been wanting to get the Bishop to go there all this year as there are a number of candidates for me to present; but he has been so busy and I have been so busy——"