THE MINDER
 
 The ^inder 
 
 THE STORY OF THE 
 
 COURTSHIP, CALL AND CONFLICTS 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN LEDGER 
 
 Minder and Minister 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN ACKWORTH 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 " Clog Shop Chronicles," &c. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 HORACE MARSHALL AND SON 
 
 TEMPLE HOUSE, TEMPLE AVENUE. E.G. 
 1900
 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, 
 LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.
 
 to i^t (jnemorg of 
 ROBERT KELLY KERMODE 
 
 AND 
 
 WALTER JAMES CANNELL 
 
 (MY FRIENDS)
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PART I 
 THE MINDER 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER ... I 
 
 11. A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION . . . . 12 
 
 III. INTRODUCES SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS . 26 
 
 IV. IN WHICH THE SUPERINTENDENT SURPRISES AND 
 
 IS SURPRISED 39 
 
 V. JOHN FINDS THAT THERE ARE MORE WAYS OF 
 
 LOOKING AT A THING THAN ONE . . . 5O 
 
 VI. SHOWS HOW SALLIE " WILL BE OF THE SAME 
 
 OPINION STILL " 66 
 
 VII. A RACE FOR A PULPIT 77 
 
 VIII. HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR ... 89 
 
 IX. *♦ AND SOME HAVE GREATNESS THRUST UPON THEM " lOI 
 
 X. SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET . . 123 
 
 XI. SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES ON HER LOVER . . 14I
 
 Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 XII. THE CASTING OF THE LOT 
 
 XIII. THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 XIV. AFTER ALL ! 
 
 XV. SALLIE IS STILL — SALLIE . 
 
 PAGE 
 186 
 
 PART II 
 THE MINISTER 
 
 I. A CASUISTICAL DEBATE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 II. A CIRCUIT MINISTER 
 
 III. WHAT TOOK PLACE AT THE QUARTERLY MEETING 
 
 IV. A STAGGERING COMPLICATION .... 
 V. A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 VI. MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA .... 
 
 VII. HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART . 
 
 215 
 232 
 250 
 269 
 285 
 302 
 323
 
 The Minder 
 
 PART I 
 THE MINDER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER 
 
 The engines of the Bramwell new mill had just 
 stopped for the night, and the hands were streaming 
 out through the great gates near the boiler-house. 
 As it was nearly dark, and a drizzling, sticky sort of 
 rain was falling, the workpeople were all making 
 homewards as fast as possible, and there was a 
 clatter of innumerable clogs on the flagged sidewalk. 
 Most of the hands were going in couples, but there 
 was one young fellow who was walking by himself, 
 and had his head down. There was nothing in the 
 least remarkable about him, except that his dark hair 
 was a little longer than usual, and suggested amateur 
 and not too frequent barbering, whilst his greasy old 
 hat was soft and round, and looked as if it might 
 once have been a parson's wide-awake. He had a 
 plain, open face, a little sharper perhaps than it 
 ought to have been, and that seemed to indicate that 
 he was already finding life somewhat hard. His 
 clothes, too, shiny with wear and mill-oil, hung some- 
 what loosely upon him, and created the impression 
 that the body they covered was not so well nourished 
 
 M. B
 
 2 THE MINDER 
 
 as it might have been. Of medium height, and 
 uncertain, almost sallow complexion, he was just 
 such an average young factory lad as could have 
 been found in any Lancashire town. A second 
 glance at his face shows that pleasant thoughts are 
 moving in John Ledger's mind, and the fingers of 
 his left hand drum merrily on the lid of the breakfast 
 can he is carrying. Now he raises his head, turns 
 his face upwards and smiles, and you note that if his 
 face wore that light upon it always it would be really 
 worth looking at. Then he mutters something to 
 himself and draws down his brows, but the lips 
 and chin seem to have escaped control for the 
 moment, and joy lurks in the corners of his mouth. 
 Joy was such an uncommon thing with him that he 
 was shy in its company, and afraid, and even a little 
 suspicious, but though he pulled the wayward mouth 
 tight again the fingers only drummed the more 
 rapidly, and before he had gone many yards he 
 caught himself actually humming. 
 
 By this time he had reached the end of the street 
 and turned into the Market Place, still musing. All 
 at once he pulled up, and staring hard at the church 
 clock, suddenly burst into a laugh that made the 
 lamplighter turn round and stare at him resentfully. 
 John looked surprised too, and ashamed, and plunged 
 across the Market Place into Shed Lane, where he 
 stopped again in the twilight to call himself names 
 and pull himself together. He seemed to have him- 
 self well in hand when he started down the lane 
 again, but though the expression on his features was 
 stern enough, there was a tell-tale light in his eyes, 
 and the corners of his lips would not keep straight. 
 Suddenly he pulled up again, his whole face one 
 delighted grin. Another thought, in which pleasure 
 and mischief seemed about equally blended, had got 
 possession of him. He looked up the lane and down,
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER 3 
 
 and then turning his face toward the dim gravestones 
 in the churchyard, he shook his fist and cried — 
 
 " I will ! I will ! " 
 
 But mill girls were coming down the lane, and 
 were just beginning to observe him ; and so starting 
 off once more, becoming serious as he walked, he 
 dismissed the great idea, whatever it was, with a 
 grunt of stern rebuke. But the joy within him was 
 not so easily put down, and so fifty yards from his 
 own door, and speaking apparently to the bills of a 
 great hoarding, he cried — 
 
 " H-a-y ! wouldn't she like it ! — she'd cry ! " 
 
 By this time he had become quite excited, and 
 also a little embarrassed ; he was so near home that 
 he already felt its influence, and his great resolve 
 began to look foolish. Propping himself against the 
 hoarding, he looked up the lane and down, and then, 
 shaking the breakfast can until it jingled again in his 
 hands, he cried — 
 
 " I will ! I'll kiss her ! " 
 
 He looked very resolute and very serious as he 
 said this, but he stopped twice before he reached the 
 little cake and bread shop where he resided ; and 
 when he finally got up to it his heart suddenly failed 
 him and he v/alked past. Then he grew ashamed, 
 and checked himself: "I will! I will! I never have 
 done, but I will ! " and then, lest his shyness should 
 once more get the better of him, he darted back and 
 hastily pushed open the door of the little shop. But 
 here, to his confusion, he found a small customer 
 getting her pinafore filled with oat cakes and 
 crumpets, and he strode nervously forward and 
 stood on the hearthrug. Many a time during the 
 short period it took to dispose of the little one, he 
 resolved to put off his rash resolve, but the idea 
 had taken possession of him, and he could not 
 move it ; and so before the door had been closed 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE MINDER 
 
 a moment, and whilst the tall pale woman of the 
 shop was putting back some cakes into the window, 
 he suddenly sprang at her, and seizing her round the 
 neck imprinted on her wan cheek a rousing kiss. 
 
 It was his mother. 
 
 " Hoo ! Ha ! Save us, John ! whatever's to do ? " 
 
 But though there was alarm and protest in the 
 tone, the face told another story ; a sweet light rose 
 into the faded eyes, and a blush, soft and beautiful as 
 any girl's, spread itself over the colourless cheek, 
 whilst the chin dropped upon the breast and she 
 hung her head like a naughty child. And John, who 
 had skipped awkwardly back to the hearthrug, and 
 now stood with his back to the fire, was blushing 
 too. He was utterly ashamed of his unprecedented 
 act, and yet so glad of the news he had to tell, that 
 though he dare not look into the eyes that were 
 shining so unwontedly, he was delighted to see them 
 so, and hastened to explain himself. 
 
 "I've got 'em, mother! I've got my wheels at 
 last ! Cheer up, mother lass ! I'm a minder now ! " 
 
 "Thank God! Oh, thank the Lord!" and she 
 dropped into the low iron-rockered chair, and great 
 tears of relief and gratitude welled up into her eyes. 
 
 "That's it, mother. Thank the good Lord we're 
 all right now. ' Sorrow may endure for the night, 
 but joy cometh in the morning.' " 
 
 For a fevv' moments "mother" sat still in her chair, 
 and then commenced absently to rock herself. Her 
 face w^as lighted with uplifting emotion, and her lips 
 moved uneasily, and at last, as she began to finger 
 nervously the hem of her apron, raised her eyes to one 
 of the pot dogs on the mantelpiece, and repeated — 
 
 "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
 But trust him for His grace." 
 
 For several minutes longer she continued to rock
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER 5 
 
 herself, and then, in sudden self-recovery, rose to get 
 her son his tea. 
 
 John was her eldest child and only son. Her hus- 
 band was one of those unworldly souls who, though 
 they possess more than average intelligence on most 
 questions, can never be made sufficiently to under- 
 stand the absolute necessity of bread and butter, 
 and can never for the life of them concentrate their 
 energies on mere commercial matters. He was at 
 once the admiration and the cross of his ambitious 
 and practical wife, who in her struggles to keep her 
 head up had made a confidant of her beloved son 
 from his earliest days, so that he was by this time 
 already old in his knowledge of the world, at least 
 on its sterner side. There were two children besides 
 John, both girls, but the secrets of the family life 
 were always kept from them, and John and his 
 mother did all the scheming and pinching. 
 
 These experiences had prematurely sobered him, 
 and, as he was of sensitive nature, they had left their 
 mark even upon his body ; and so, though old in 
 sorrow, he had dropped behind his competitors at 
 the mill and been outstripped by younger but better- 
 developed fellows, and still remained a " big-piercer" 
 at about fifteen shillings per week. At last, however, 
 his turn had come, and he had received a sort of 
 certificate of manhood by being appointed minder 
 of a couple of spinning mules, with a bobbiner and 
 piecer under him. This meant an addition of ten 
 or more shillings per week to the family income, and 
 as mule-minding was piecework he was not without 
 hope of exceeding the average. Circumstances, 
 rather than natural temperament, had turned him 
 into a serious stay-at-home fellow, and outside his 
 own home he was regarded as shy and uninteresting. 
 At the time of which we write the struggle of life had 
 become somewhat easier for them, and John and his
 
 6 THE MINDER 
 
 mother had begun to indulge in ambitious hopes for 
 his young sisters, who, he declared again and again, 
 should never go to the factory. It had been hard work 
 keeping them at school so long, and now Annie, the 
 eldest, had turned out delicate, and so they had 
 started the shop in order to be able to allow her to 
 remain at home in her mother's care. Lucy was a 
 pupil teacher, but did not care for the profession, and 
 was anxious to get something more congenial ; but 
 as yet nothing had presented itself, and of course her 
 wages at school were next to nothing. 
 
 Now, however, things would be better. With a 
 full man's wages and their other little sources of 
 income they were not likely to be in any immediate 
 want, and if only John's father, who was a painter, 
 would not spring any of his ov»-n financial troubles 
 upon them, as he had an awkward habit of doing 
 when they least expected, they would be fairly 
 comfortable. 
 
 And so John finished his tea with a light heart, 
 and a face that beamed in sympathy with his mother's 
 grateful sighs. 
 
 Later on John washed himself and put on his 
 evening clothes and sat down to a book ; but he did 
 not read much. His eyes wandered again and again 
 to his mother, who went about the house humming a 
 tune, a thing almost unheard of in her. From his 
 mother his gaze returned to his book, and then to the 
 fire, into which he stared with widening eyes and 
 pleased, contented smile. Then he would suddenly 
 remember himself, and puckering his brow with stern 
 resolution, bring his eyes back to the volume in his 
 hands, and, before he knew where he was, he was 
 day-dreaming again. 
 
 The house was spotlessly clean and the fire-irons 
 shone with their week-end polish, the little swing 
 lamp cast a cheery light, and the kettle hummed
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER 7 
 
 drowsily on the hob, and John's heart was warming 
 in sympathetic joy and gratitude when the door 
 opened quickly, a gust of wet wind swirled into the 
 house, and a voice that went through him like an 
 electric shock cried — 
 
 "Good evening, Mrs. Ledger. Oh, what a night! 
 Isn't it?" 
 
 " Sallie ! You ! Whatever have you come out a 
 night like this for ? John would have brought the 
 bread down. Come in and get to the fire." 
 
 "Oh, I had to come this way. Yes, I will sit a 
 minute or two. Never mind my cloak, John." 
 
 But John, at sight of the visitor, had jumped to 
 his feet, and with hands that shook a little, had 
 drawn the rocking-chair near the fire, and was now 
 engaged in helping to remove the waterproof from 
 the visitor's shoulders. 
 
 She was a young person of about twenty-two, and 
 as she handed her cloak to John, throwing back as 
 she did so a coquettish little veil, she revealed a 
 remarkably pretty face. Her features were so 
 formally regular as to be almost uninteresting of 
 themselves, but at this moment they were wreathed 
 in bright smiles, and flushed with conflict with the 
 elements outside, whilst her fine dark eyes flashed 
 with points of light. She was rather below medium 
 height and inclined to embonpoint, and her dress 
 indicated that she belonged to a class a little above 
 that of John and his mother. A cynical person 
 might have said that the young lady was evidently 
 quite aware of her attractions, but John Ledger was 
 neither cynical nor critical, and at that moment she 
 appeared to him a ravishing embodiment of bewitch- 
 ing womanhood. She did not talk to John, of course, 
 though his book lay on his knee and his face wore 
 an inane company smile. 
 
 She had come for the week-end cakes and bread,
 
 8 THE MINDER 
 
 and to talk with Mrs. Ledger ; and though she did 
 now and then flash a look at John, it was only because, 
 being there, he could not in politeness be altogether 
 overlooked. She spoke of the weather and the storm 
 that had overtaken her, and seemed so animated 
 about that stalest of topics that John found it 
 wonderfully interesting. Then she had to tell her 
 woman friend about yesterday's sewing meeting, and 
 she looked so very pretty as she talked that the male 
 hearer forgot that small scandal was his pet abhor- 
 rence. Then she grew suddenly confidential, and in 
 low, earnest tones expressed her fears that the new 
 Circuit stewards were not hitting it with the super., 
 and John would really have become very uneasy 
 about this kind of tittle-tattle, only she every now 
 and then rolled her eyes round to him, and arched 
 her brows in such an altogether irresistible way, that 
 he could think of nothing else. Presently she dis- 
 covered that it was on the stroke of nine, and she 
 must, of course, be going. But the bag she had 
 brought for the bread proved on examination to be 
 sodden wet, and her order was larger than usual, and 
 her arms had not been made for carrying heavy 
 burdens, and — well, Mrs. Ledger said that John 
 must go with her and carry the parcel. Of course 
 Miss Sallie would not hear of this for a moment, but 
 John, being in most unusual spirits, and feeling that 
 he must make amends for not having offered before, 
 became quite bold in his urgenc}' ; and so, in a few 
 minutes, with the loaves and cakes wrapped in an 
 old newspaper, and hugged to a thumping heart, he 
 was going down the lane by Miss Sallie's side. 
 
 It was three-quarters of a mile to the old-fashioned 
 stone house where she resided, but the time passed 
 so rapidly that John was quite disappointed when 
 they reached the gate of what had once been a farm- 
 house. Sallie, still talking brightly, did not stop at
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER 9 
 
 the gate and relieve him of his load ; she simply 
 pushed it open before her, and still chattering, led 
 the way into the house. Opening the door, she took 
 the bread from his laden arms, and thanked him with 
 a look and tone which he, shy fellow, found delight- 
 fully embarrassing. Then he must sit down and rest 
 a moment before returning ; and though he said 
 it was getting late, he allowed her to pull a chair 
 towards the fire for him, and sat down in it, scarcely 
 able to believe that he was not dreaming. 
 
 Sallie carried the bread into the back kitchen, and 
 was so long in returning that John had time to 
 realise that they were alone in the house. Oh, if 
 only he had been in any position ! But she returned 
 just then, and set before him a steaming glass of 
 blackberry tea, which was so good for keeping the 
 cold out. John required pressing, but when he did 
 accept, either he was unduly nervous, or else she 
 retained her hold upon the glass longer than was 
 strictly necessary, for their fingers touched, and the 
 contact thrilled John through and through. An 
 awkward silence fell upon them as John sipped at his 
 glass ; but as Sallie still stood over him he grew 
 more and more embarrassed, and declaring that he 
 really must be going, he gulped down the hot liquid 
 and hastily rose to his feet. They shook hands quite 
 shyly, and John's susceptible and timid heart went 
 pit-pat again, and he felt that she did not withdraw 
 hers as promptly as mere courtesy would have pre- 
 scribed. And then she came with him to the door, 
 and as she held it open with one hand she snatched 
 a little shawl from a nail behind it, and accompanied 
 him to the gate. 
 
 " The * sneck' was rather awkward," she explained. 
 
 But John's experience of life had made him 
 cautious almost to suspicion, and he had learnt to 
 distrust appearances that were more than usually
 
 10 THE MINDER 
 
 propitious, and so he was growing a little uneasy 
 under this gracious treatment. It was too good to 
 be true. Sallie took quite a long time to explain 
 to him the mechanism of the gate latch, and, perhaps 
 because the rain had now stopped, he seemed to 
 forget his hurr}^ and to be most curiously interested 
 in this branch of mechanics. As, however, they bent 
 down at the same precise moment to inspect the 
 latch their heads collided. John drew back with a 
 cry of alarm, and wildly threw out his arms; Sallie 
 tossed her head up with a merry laugh, but without 
 stepping back, so that he might have caught her in 
 his embrace by "accident," only he daren't. With 
 another anxious hope that he had not hurt her, he got 
 out of the gate, and was turning round to say good- 
 night once more, when something seemed to strike 
 her, and, putting the gate between them, she 
 leaned over it and said in a loud whisper — 
 
 "John! Here!" 
 
 John returned, and she drew so near that he could 
 look right down into her deep, dark eyes. 
 
 " Hey, I am glad you came with me to-night, 
 John ; Sam Kepple was watching for me." 
 
 John, with those dangerous eyes still upon him, 
 felt that he was expected to look astonished and 
 shocked, and he did his best. 
 
 " I cannot think why he bothers after me. I'm sure 
 I don't encourage him." 
 
 It occurred to John that here was a chance for an 
 honest compliment, but he could not for the life of 
 him think of the right word, and so he answered 
 huskily — 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 " I'm not that sort of girl, forward and running 
 after fellows, now am I, John ? " 
 
 John was absolutely sure of that, and tried to say 
 so ; only those eyes seemed in the darkness to be
 
 HOW ONE GOOD KISS BEGOT ANOTHER ii 
 
 looking into his very soul, so he only made a 
 stammering sort of answer. 
 
 Sallie turned her head away, and John thought he 
 caught a little sigh ; but before he could speak she 
 had leaned against the gate again, and, looking right 
 at him, she said — 
 
 " Of course, it's different with you, John, isn't it ? 
 We are old friends, aren't we, John ? " 
 
 She seemed quite anxious about this matter. Her 
 little head was thrown back, and she was looking 
 earnestly up at him, with her red lips parted, in eager 
 desire to hear his reply. And John was only human, 
 and he was unusually elated to-night at the sudden 
 brightening of his worldly prospects — the ordinary 
 ambitions of men were possible to him now — and so, 
 looking down upon her with hungry, gloating eyes, 
 an overpowering impulse suddenly rushed upon him, 
 and, ducking his head, he kissed the two lips so 
 temptingly turned up to his, and then with sudden 
 and violent reaction broke awa}' from her, and 
 without even a " Good-night," plunged madly 
 into the dark lane, and ran as fast as his legs could 
 carrv him.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 
 
 When he had travelled about a hundred yards a 
 sense of the utter ridiculousness of the situation and 
 its compromising possibilities came upon the fleeing 
 lover, and he was just pulling up to collect his 
 thoughts when a tall figure stepped out of the 
 hedge backing, and planted itself in the path before 
 him, whilst a high falsetto voice cried — " Hold ! " 
 
 John did not require a second bidding ; the sudden- 
 ness of the thing pulled him up dead, and his heart 
 was in his mouth before the figure spoke. 
 
 " Come on ! Show thyself! What have you been 
 doing as you're feared of being seen ? " 
 
 John stepped uneasily forward, but before he could 
 make out who had accosted him the man in front, 
 turning half round and flinging back his head to 
 address the shadowy hedge rows, cried, " Well I'm 
 jiggered ! " and then, springing back with a gesture 
 of repudiation, he went on, " Nay, nivver, nivver ! 
 That would be a mank ! " and once more breaking 
 ofl", he rushed forward, thrust a long narrow face 
 into John's, and shouted squeakily — - 
 
 " It's nivver John Ledger ! " 
 
 " Yes it is, Sam," replied John wonderingly. 
 " Whatever's to do ? " 
 
 Sam towered over him in silent amazement, and 
 then, moving a step backward and looking him over 
 from head to foot — though, in the darkness, he could
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 13 
 
 see little — he turned away, and, apostrophising the 
 hedges, he cried — 
 
 ''Didn't I tell you ? Isn't it always so ? Isn't it 
 t' way o' t' wold ? " 
 
 " Sam, whatever is the matter ? " 
 
 But Sam was still glowering into the darkness and 
 tossing his arms about in tragic gestures ; and as 
 John watched him in dire perplexity, he suddenly 
 smote on his breast in melodramatic intensity, and 
 then, in thin piping tones that greatly heightened 
 the comic effect, he cried — 
 
 ** If it had been a henemy that had dun this ! But 
 it is thou ! Thoti, my own fameeliar friend, thou ! " 
 
 Sallie had hinted not many minutes before that 
 Sam was " after her." Here was a pretty state of 
 things ! He had been trifling with another fellow's 
 sweetheart. Sam was a minder like himself, and 
 had been kindly trying to get him his "wheels" for 
 some time, and it was to some degree to his influence 
 that he owed his promotion. Moreover, Sam was a 
 member of the same class, and a prayer leader, and 
 it was through words spoken by him to the super, 
 that John had first been encouraged to try to preach. 
 He heaved a long sigh, and drew himself together. 
 After all, he had more experience in fighting his way 
 through difficulties than in sustaining prosperity, and 
 the emergency steadied him for the moment. He 
 must first see exactly where Sam was, and how much 
 he knew. Had he seen that utterly reckless kiss ? 
 He could not imagine that the bright Sallie, who was 
 twenty-two, could ever think seriously of this thirty- 
 year-old fellow workman of his ; but if she had 
 simply been playing with Sam — but he would not 
 allow himself to think of that. 
 
 " Sam, old friend, I w^as " 
 
 " Friend ! Friend, he says ! " cried the other, 
 appealing once more to the darkness. "The sarpent
 
 14 THE MINDER 
 
 bites, an' then licks. Friend ! Aye, I'm wounded 
 in the house of a friend," and then breaking off 
 abruptly, he plunged forward at John again, and 
 thrusting his long face into his, he cried with wild, 
 pathetic, wailing tones, " Three year come Good 
 Friday Fve gone after that wench, an' Fve never 
 hed so much as a little kiss yet." 
 
 John was about to offer a soothing remark, when 
 the distracted fellow plunged off again. Turning his 
 back upon his friend and shaking his fist at the hedge, 
 he cried — 
 
 " I will ! ril let him ! Fll watch him dance like 
 a carlin' pea in a frying-pan — like a weasel at a rabbit 
 hole ! She'll lift him up and flop him down — like me; 
 she'll fry him o' one side an' freeze him o' t'other, 
 an' Fll let her! Aye, Fll let her! It'll do me 
 good." 
 
 Touched by his friend's distress, and always ready 
 for self-accusation, John felt half inclined to offer to 
 withdraw in his friend's favour; but a new jealousy 
 for Sallie's honour got the better of this unloverlike 
 feeling, and he cried — 
 
 " No, no ! Sam. She's not cruel, at any rate." 
 
 " Cruel ? Who said she was cruel ? The man who 
 says a word again that girl will get my fist in his face. 
 What is it to thee if she is cruel ? " 
 
 John felt this was getting beyond him. It was no 
 use talking to a fellow in a state of mind like Sam's, 
 and so he took him gently by the arm and began to 
 move forward. Before they had gone many steps, 
 however, Sam pulled up, and, looking earnestly into 
 John's face, he said — 
 
 " They say as matches are made i' heaven, don't 
 they?" 
 
 ''Well!" 
 
 " Well, if they are, I'd rayther go to t'other place." 
 
 "Sam!"
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 15 
 
 *' I would! After what I've gone through, hell 'ud 
 be a holiday." 
 
 In tones of low, husky sympathy, and with feelings 
 which frightened him as he felt them rising within 
 him, John said — 
 
 ** Do you really love her, Sam?" 
 But the touch thus given to Sam's lacerated 
 feelings sent him off at another tangent, and jerking 
 his arm out of that of his companion, he shouted — 
 
 " Love her? I hate her! My blood's afire wi' hate 
 of her I" And then he paused, gazing wildly about 
 him as he did so, and at length, with a moving break 
 in his voice, he wailed out, "Yea, I do love her! 
 She's spelled me, John. Oh, John, she's my doom, 
 lad, she's my doom!" 
 
 John's brain was buzzing into his ears, and his 
 heart jumped spasmodically. One thing, however, 
 was clear to him. At any cost he must put himself 
 right with his friend ; there must be no further 
 concealment. 
 
 "But, Sam!" he said, in a sort of sad dismay, 
 "I like her myself, but I didn't know! I never 
 guessed " 
 
 Sam's arms dropped limply to his side, a long 
 struggling groan escaped him, he stared distressfully 
 into the other's face for a while, and then, in low 
 husky tones, he murmured — 
 
 " Aye, an' she'll tak' thee, lad — now I " and then, 
 with a long quivering sigh, he concluded, " God help 
 poor Sam!" 
 
 The cry went through John. Sam's characteristi- 
 cally inconsequent, coals-of-fire sort of treatment 
 scorched his very soul, and he proceeded almost 
 with passion to reiterate that he had never dreamed 
 that he was in love with Sallie, and that he could 
 not think for a moment of entering into competition 
 with him ; but as soon as ever the last statement had
 
 i6 THE MINDER 
 
 been made, he would have recalled it, only he could 
 not think of anything better to say, and so he stood 
 there and stared helplessly at his companion. Eye 
 to eye they remained there for several moments, and 
 then Sam, drawing a reluctant breath, said — 
 
 "Johnny, lad, she'll nivver have me — that I know. 
 I'm not good enough for her. But, lad, if what 
 they're sayin' about thee be true, she'll have thee ; 
 aye, she'll have thee; but, Johnny, she's not good 
 enough for thee — specially now." 
 
 ** Now! How now?" 
 
 "If thou doesn't know thou soon will do; but, 
 Johnny! mark what I say. I know her through an' 
 through, and she's not good enough for what thou'rt 
 goin' to be ; be careful, lad, an' God help thee," and 
 before John could stop him the strange fellow had 
 darted down Sandman's entry and disappeared. 
 
 John's father was reading a leading article to his 
 reluctantly listening wife when he entered the house, 
 and waved his hand to prevent his son from inter- 
 rupting, and so, glad enough of such a chance, John 
 slipped off his boots and stole quietly upstairs, his 
 mother following him with inquiring eyes. 
 
 His bedroom was on the third storey at the top 
 of the house ; the bed occupied the middle of the 
 room, the only position in which the old four-poster 
 could stand upright. Against the wall near the 
 door hung a small amateurishly-made book-shelf 
 containing Wesley's notes, some volumes of the 
 Cambridge Bible for schools. Banks' " Theological 
 Handbook," and a few home-bound volumes of " The 
 Preacher's Magazine," whilst near to it, and almost 
 immediately under the skylight, was an old desk, 
 upon which were pens and pencils, a penny ink 
 bottle, an open Bible, and a copy-book. He put 
 the little benzine hand lamp upon the desk, and fell 
 heavily into a chair. He was tired, damp, and
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 17 
 
 harassed. A wan smile curved about his lips as 
 he absently unbuttoned his coat and vest. How 
 very like life this was ! at least life as he had so far 
 known it. Hitherto, every piece of good fortune he 
 had had invariably proved the forerunner of some 
 great trial, and here was another example of the 
 same perverse fate. He had that day achieved one 
 of the great ambitions of his strenuous young life, 
 and it had already plunged him into complications. 
 He rose mechanically and hung his wet coat upon 
 the spike of the bed post, and then suddenly checked 
 himself. No, he was slandering Providence ! The 
 blessing had been given graciously enough, and he 
 had proved unworthy of it. He had allowed himself 
 to be so carried away by his suddenly brightening 
 prospects that he had, by a reckless act, placed 
 himself in a very invidious position. Yes, it was 
 his own doing. No wonder he had received so few 
 Providential favours ; he was not to be trusted with 
 them, he used them to his own hurt. He had sat 
 down again by this time, and with folded arms and 
 chin on chest he began to review the adventures of 
 the night. The first discovery he made added to his 
 contrition ; the old Adam in him was still revelling 
 in that hasty kiss at the farmyard gate, and threw it 
 up so vividly that he could think of nothing else. 
 The slender little hand on the gate, the ripe lips, the 
 dark, enslaving eyes seemed at that moment more 
 real to him than they had done in the mad moment 
 he was recalling. He had rushed away out of a 
 sudden sense of his presumption and the resentment 
 it might provoke, but now, strange as it seemed, all 
 doubt on that point had left him, and he realised the 
 amazing fact that, to Sallie at any rate, his conduct 
 had not been distasteful. The thought filled his 
 brain like an enslaving mesmerism ; his blood tingled 
 again and his eyes sparkled. For some time now 
 M. c
 
 i8 THE MINDER 
 
 he had felt that SaUie Wood was different to other 
 girls in his eyes, but the insignificance and uncer- 
 tainty of his future had kept him within the bounds 
 of secret admiration, but now he realised that he 
 was possessed by a great overmastering passion, and 
 for the moment the consciousness was a delicious, 
 intoxicating dream. But the very strength of his 
 feeling alarmed him as he thought of it, and the 
 difficulties at once began to present themselves. He 
 took serious views of life, and marriage was to him 
 the most solemn step that could be taken. He had 
 never yet gone so far as to ask himself whether Sallie 
 was suitable for him, and when he did so, the answer 
 added to his perplexities. No man, he felt, ought to 
 allow his passion to over-ride his judgment, but he 
 had done so, and now he had more than one mis- 
 giving as to whether they were suited to each other. 
 Sallie was light and gay, and, in fact, these, sad to 
 say, were the characteristics that most attracted him 
 in her, and she belonged to a family which had a 
 reputation for over-keenness in commercial matters. 
 John had his full share of that odd contempt for 
 riches which so often characterises the hopelessly 
 poor, and he imagined it had a spiritual origin. 
 Sallie, he felt sure, would have earthly ideals, and 
 would try to infuse into him her own low but practical 
 ambitions. Then he recalled with another pang 
 what Sam had said, and he could not disguise from 
 himself that his own observations of her gave him 
 too much reason to suspect that she was quite aware 
 of her attractions, and somewhat unscrupulous in her 
 use of them. But flirtation was utterly abhorrent to 
 him, and he realised that their courtship, if it did 
 proceed, would be a tantalising and uneasy experi- 
 ence. By this time he had worked himself into a state 
 of restlessness, and was pacing the little room with 
 uneven steps. His mother had entered the room
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 19 
 
 below, and now called to him to get into bed, and 
 so he put out the lamp and threw himself, half- 
 dressed as he was, upon the bed, and once more 
 surrendered himself to his tormenting perplexities. 
 Poor Sam's agitated looks came back to him as he 
 lay in the darkness; of course his passion was an 
 utterly hopeless one ; Sallie, he felt sure, would 
 never think seriously in that direction, but the big 
 man's pathetic warning alarmed him, and his own 
 temperament and the deep, though narrow, theology 
 he believed made it easy for him to blame himself 
 for that compromising kiss ; and he did so, muttering 
 bitter self-reproaches as he tossed about upon the 
 bed. He had played the fool ; he, a local preacher, 
 had allowed a sudden and altogether fleshly passion 
 to overcome him, and stood committed to the conse- 
 quences. He could not draw back, and — oh, awful 
 situation ! — he did not really wish to draw back. 
 Self-sacrifice came easy by long practice to him, but 
 now, when he fairly faced the question, his whole 
 nature rose in rebellion. Again and again his deeper 
 manhood grappled with the enemy, but each time 
 they "clinched" it was thrown, and a sense of 
 helplessness came upon him, and he had a cowardly, 
 unregenerate longing to let go and drift. 
 
 The church clock at the end of the lane struck 
 twelve, and he had to rise a few minutes after five, 
 but he still lay tossing there, tortured with the con- 
 sciousness that he had lost self-mastery, and — oh ! 
 terrible situation !— did not want to resume it. Then 
 a new thought entered his mind, and he rolled off 
 the bed, and was just dropping upon his knees when 
 he drew himself up again. " What ? ask God to 
 deliver me ! Why, it would be asking Him to 
 condone sin ! It is something I have done myself, 
 and only I can undo it." Turning away, there- 
 fore, he began to pace the room, but remembering 
 
 C 2
 
 20 THE MINDER 
 
 presently who was underneath he desisted, and upon 
 fresh impulse sank upon his knees at his bedside. 
 With bowed head and writhing body he poured out 
 his whole soul to his Maker, stopped, and began 
 again, paused once more, and then plunged into a 
 long, impassioned supplication. Then he leaned 
 further over the bed, and buried his face in the 
 clothes, and was still. Presently he rose to his feet 
 with set, stern face, and crept into bed. He had won, 
 or thought he had won, one more battle. He had 
 not slept much when he rose next morning, and as 
 he walked to the mill, breakfast-can in hand, he 
 was able to review his position. The hope and love 
 born last night were to be resolutely crushed out. 
 It was not absolutely necessary for people in their 
 condition to explain or apologise for a kiss, and 
 though he would greatly have liked to know what 
 Sallie thought about his ridiculous running away, he 
 must leave that and see her no more. He had acted 
 without due thought, he had placed himself in ri\alry 
 with an old friend, and though he realised that the 
 course he was taking was neither very lover-like nor 
 very courageous, it was certainly safest. In the 
 meantime he would watch and wait ; he would study, 
 as circumstances might allow, the character of the 
 girl he now knew he loved, and would also ascertain 
 what were Sam's chances, though he already guessed 
 them. He did not see, as the reader will, that his 
 resolution was not quite consistent with itself; he 
 had a sort of instinctive feeling that the most painful 
 course must necessarily be the right one — there was 
 present safety in it at any rate — and he must be 
 content with that. 
 
 All Saturday afternoon he was strangely uneasy in 
 spite of his resolves. He wondered whether Sallie 
 would call on Saturday evening as she sometimes 
 did, and he spent his time, now trying to settle
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 21 
 
 to his books, and now resolving to go to the 
 band-meeting and thus avoid a possible rencontre. 
 In the end he fetched downstairs a magazine and 
 tried to interest himself in an article on " Open-air 
 Preaching." The hours passed, however, miceting 
 time came and went, but Sallie did not appear and 
 he stole off to bed at last, out of love with himself 
 for feeling so disappointed. On Sunday morning he 
 had an appointment at a little mission-room on the 
 outskirts of the town, and so missed the service at 
 the chapel. He was early at school, however, and 
 stole many a sly look across at the young women's 
 class, but no Sallie appeared, and by this time anxiety 
 was fast getting the better of caution, and he so 
 far relaxed his original resolution as to decide to 
 get a word with her that night if at all possible. 
 The Woods sat three pews behind the Ledgers 
 under the gallery of the chapel, and as, of course, 
 he was too well-behaved to turn round, he found 
 himself listening to the banging of pew doors and 
 imagining the entry of Sallie and her father. Once 
 or twice during the service he thought he caught 
 the sound of her contralto voice in the singing, and 
 whilst the sermon vvas being delivered he felt as 
 though his sweetheart's black eyes were boring 
 holes into his back. When the service was over 
 he moved, whilst waiting for the commencement 
 of the after-meeting, into the corner of the pew, 
 and turned half round to get a hasty glance behind 
 him, and lo ! the Woods' pew was empty. 
 
 He felt he was going cold ; something certainly 
 must be the matter at Fidler's fold, and when the 
 first two prayers were concluded, he took up his 
 v/ide-awake hat and stole out of the chapel. 
 
 Twenty yards down the street he heard himself 
 called in a husky panting voice, and turning round 
 came face to face with old Zeph Wood, Sallie's father.
 
 22 THE MINDER 
 
 *' Hold ! Hold wi' thee ! Art walking for a wager? " 
 tried the old fellow, puffing hard, and pushing his 
 Sunday hat back on his head as he came up. 
 
 Zeph was a short man, and thick-set, with 
 arms and feet disproportionately long for his 
 height ; his eyes were as dark as Sallie's, but small 
 and restless, whilst an overhanging nose and long 
 drooping mouth to match gave an almost whining 
 expression to his face. He was a leader, and had 
 a somewhat numerous following among the more 
 demonstrative of the members ; but his record was 
 stained by instances of over-shrewdness and trickery. 
 
 " This is a bonny mank," he cried, pulling up and 
 staring hard at John, whilst he rubbed his perspiring 
 face with a blue-spotted cotton handkerchief, " Dost 
 know that yond wench is bad ? " 
 
 " Bad ! " cried John, with a sinking heart. 
 
 " Ay, bad ! This is wot comes o' stannin' at t' fold 
 gate with young fellows like thee ! " 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry," began John confusedly, but 
 Zeph broke in upon him again. 
 
 "Sorry! wot good'ull that do, if she's gotten her 
 deeath o' cold ? Stir thy pins an' cut off to Black 
 Jacob's for some cumfrey herbs an' camomile, while 
 I go and fetch Aunt Pizer. Hay, dear ! young folk 
 ne'er has no sense." 
 
 John was not in a state of mind to see this new 
 incident in its true proportions ; so, full of fear and 
 self-reproach, he darted off to the herbalist's, which 
 was a mile or so on the other side of the town. 
 When he reached Fidler's fold Zeph and Aunt Pizer 
 were already there, and Sallie, with her long dark 
 hair hanging in wavy masses down her back, and a 
 soft cream-coloured shawl on her shoulders, looked, 
 John thought, lovelier than he had ever seen her. 
 Mrs. Pizer took the herbs and soon had them 
 bubbling in the pan and giving forth a pungent
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 23 
 
 savour, whilst Zeph walked about the room, snap- 
 ping and snarling at everything and everybody, in 
 his muttered disgust of young people's thoughtless- 
 ness. John would have expressed his sorrow and 
 retired, but Zeph drew him nearer the big chair in 
 which Sallie was sitting, as though he wished him 
 to realise the enormity of his transgression by behold- 
 ing the condition of the sufferer. Sallie did not 
 smile as he approached ; she simply looked very 
 solemnly at him, closed her eyes, and put on a 
 suffering and resigned expression. John, consumed 
 with sympathy and contrition, stood awkwardly, first 
 on one leg and then on the other, and when Aunt 
 Pizer asked for a mug, Sallie, without opening her 
 eyes, told her father where he would find one, and 
 when he had disappeared into the kitchen, and Aunt's 
 back was turned as she inspected the boiling herbs, 
 she slyly put out a moist little hand for John to take. 
 In spite of all his resolutions he grasped it eagerly, 
 and then discovered, with an embarrassing mixture 
 of joy and alarm, that she did not want to with- 
 draw it. Even when her father returned she still 
 held it in his, and he felt his scrupulous prudence 
 vanishing before the strong risings of pleasure and 
 passion. He tried to say something sympathetic, 
 and Sallie put her soft fingers between his and drew 
 him nearer. Both Zeph and Aunt Pizer saw the 
 position of things, and whilst Aunt turned her head 
 away, with a sort of apologetic little cough, the 
 father looked dreely for a moment at John, and then 
 snorted out a half contemptuous grunt, as if to say 
 that he thought the situation very ridiculous, but he 
 supposed he must accept it. John went hot and 
 cold ; they were all, Sallie included, taking his sup- 
 posed relationship to the invalid as a settled thing, 
 and evidently regarded him as possessing the privi- 
 leges of a lover ; and with that soft little hand laid
 
 24 THE MINDER 
 
 so confidingly in liis, it would be the meanest of all 
 mean things not to accept, at least for the moment, 
 his happy fate. What was that dull, heavy feeling, 
 which lay underneath all the keen pleasures of the 
 moment ? Was not this a position he had long 
 desired, and had it not come to him almost without 
 an effort? and by that peculiar series of circum- 
 stances which he had always been taught to regard 
 as providential. Now that his highest ambition in 
 earthly things was suddenly and wonderfully realised, 
 why was he so suspicious and shy of it ? Still hold- 
 ing that little hand, and allowing his greedy eyes 
 to wander over that mass of rippling hair and the 
 margin of white neck below it, his struggles of the 
 night before looked like the morbid imaginings of 
 an introspective ascetic ; he was only frightened at 
 the ease and suddenness of his own success, and so 
 he gave the lissom fingers a gentle squeeze, and 
 began in nervous manner to recommend certain 
 simples much believed in by his mother. Then 
 Sallie withdrew her hand to put back a stray lo^k 
 that would droop over her brow, and as the clock 
 just then began to strike ten, John remembered 
 himself and prepared to make his departure. Sallie 
 did not move, but she opened her eyes and looked 
 at him as he drew nearer, and put out his hand for 
 leave-taking. She did not appear to see his action, 
 but turned up her face and raised two ravishing 
 lips to be kissed : and to crown all, as he was with- 
 drawing his burning face from hers, she whispered, 
 " Come again to-morrow night." 
 
 How he got out of the house and into the lane he 
 never knew; for- the time all fear and doubt were 
 swallowed up in the glow of a great delight. What 
 a wonderful thing ! Sallie had evidently secretly 
 loved him for many a day, and he had gone on 
 thinking about her without ever imagining that she
 
 A KISS MAY BREED A COMPLICATION 25 
 
 held him in any special regard. How confiding and 
 innocent she was ! As soon as she had seen what 
 he meant she had accepted the situation without a 
 trace of the finessing so common with 3'oung women. 
 She understood him better than he understood him- 
 self, and knowing his serious ways, she had fallen 
 quietly into his possession as soon as he had really 
 shown his heart. What an open-minded, loving, 
 beautiful girl she was, and oh ! how happy he felt.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 INTRODUCES SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 
 
 Bramwell was a small town of some six or seven 
 thousand inhabitants, and had a somewhat curious 
 appearance arising from the fact that whilst it was 
 now almost entirely given up to cotton manufacture, 
 it had formerly been a somewhat important market 
 town and the centre of an agricultural district. The 
 old market square, which was any shape but the one 
 indicated by its name, was now almost at the extreme 
 end of the town and contained a certain mysterious 
 stone erection in the centre, about which local archaeo- 
 logists grew wrathful or enthusiastic, according as their 
 descriptions were accepted or otherwise ; but which 
 the up-to-date vandal vicar laughingly declared was 
 the burying-place of such of the ancient Bramwellians 
 as had perished in the time of the Great Plague. 
 
 The church, a low squat example of Tudor-Gothic, 
 stood at the west end of the square and was covered 
 with ivy that was black with layers of soot from the 
 mill chimneys. Half-way down Lumley Road, which 
 ran due west from the square, was the Wesleyan 
 Chapel, an ugly brick building with a flagged yard in 
 front and a disused burying-ground at the back. At 
 the eastern end of the square was a small enclosed 
 cattle market, and beyond that long rows of work- 
 men's cottages running at right angles to Station 
 Road, with three or four mills in the background, 
 and the railway station, which old-time prejudice
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 27 
 
 had prevented coming near the town, still further 
 down the road. 
 
 Between the cattle market and the square, just 
 where the latter ran into Station Road, there stood a 
 row of dilapidated one-story buildings used by small 
 local tradesmen. The third and most dingy-looking 
 of the lot was evidently devoted to the business of 
 painting, and had over the door a drunken-looking 
 signboard, on which was written in sprawling old 
 church-type characters : — 
 
 SH/IIMPS®1R XEDOEIR, 
 
 Gilder, Decorator and Artist's Colourman. 
 
 On the time-honoured principle that the cobbler's 
 children are always the worst shod, this building was 
 entirely devoid of paint, and when close inspection 
 revealed here and there slight traces of the presence 
 at some by -gone date of that excellent preservative, it 
 was utterly impossible to decide what had been the 
 colour originally used. As compensation, however, 
 the back of the shop door was bedaubed in all the 
 colours of the rainbow, and so thick were the layers 
 that the middle of the door must have been nearly 
 half-an-inch thicker than the other parts ; for this 
 was the place where the proprietor dried his brushes. 
 The inside of the windows and the walls were covered 
 with dust of ancient date, and various implements 
 of the painter's craft, most of them appealing patheti- 
 cally for instant superannuation, were lying about 
 here and there in careless disorder. In the middle 
 of the floor stood a small stove perfectly innocent of 
 varnish, but splashed here and there with various 
 colours of paint. Near this stove was a round block, 
 at one time evidently part of the trunk of a tree, and 
 about twenty inches high, its polished top giving 
 ample evidence that it was usually used as a seat ;
 
 28 THE MINDER 
 
 whilst against the wall were dirty-looking bags of 
 painter's colours, old and useless stock ; across w^hich 
 was laid a whitewasher's plank, which thus formed a 
 seat. This resting place bore signs also of frequent 
 occupation, for the painter's shop was the general 
 rendezvous of the left or radical wing of the Bramwell 
 Wesleyan Church. The proprietor of the establish- 
 ment was John Ledger's father, a rattling, graphic, 
 anecdotal local preacher of the old school, whose 
 gifts and shortcomings made him at once a fearful 
 delight and an unhappy burden to his friends. 
 
 On the Monday morning after the events described 
 in the last chapter, Sampson was standing at the 
 bench-like table under the window absently grinding 
 paint on a slab, for he had a supreme contempt for 
 the " read}' made trash they sold in tins," and 
 adhered stubbornly to the ways of the good old 
 times. He was rather tall, with long greyish hair 
 turned back without parting over his head, and 
 hanging down with a slight outward curl behind. 
 He had high cheek bones, a narrow, though lofty 
 forehead, sharp grey eyes, a dogmatic chin, wide, 
 loose mouth, and thin Dundreary whiskers. His 
 greasy, green-black coat of clerical cut was covered 
 with a long apron that now, as usual, was twisted 
 round under his left arm. Behind him, seated on the 
 bench near the stove, was a man who even in that 
 position appeared to be a dwarf. He had a full, 
 corpulent body, a big, long head, short, ungainly legs, 
 and a shrewd, almost intellectual face, of pugnacious 
 expression. He wore a thick showman-like silver 
 watch-chain hanging over a waistcoat that had once 
 been imitation sealskin, but which now only retained 
 its nap in out-of-the-way places. He was smoking a 
 long clay pipe, and ever}- now and again got off his 
 seat and stepped close to the stove, where he had a 
 full view of the little dingy broker's shop opposite, of
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 29 
 
 which he was the proprietor. Wilky Drax, or Robert 
 Wilkinson Drax as he signed himself, though he had 
 been in the shop for fully ten minutes, had never 
 spoken, as the ordinary courtesies of greeting w^ere 
 dispensed with between such old friends. Just now 
 he has wriggled off the bench and is standing wath 
 his pipe stretched out and his back to the stove 
 watching a stray customer who is scanning the con- 
 tents of his shop window across the road. The 
 stranger, however, moved on, and Wilky, as he 
 waddled back to his seat, removed his pipe from his 
 mouth and remarked in hard, crackling tones, as 
 though he were resuming a conversation which 
 momentary attention to business had interrupted — 
 
 "A second-hand shop, an' a secon'-hand church, 
 an' a secon'-hand wold, and nowt doin' i' none on 
 'em ! It's sickenin' ! " 
 
 As this was a distinct challenge to discussion, and 
 as controversy was meat and drink to the painter, he 
 stopped his rubbing, and turning round and leaning 
 his back against the edge of the slab, he demanded — 
 
 " Second-hand ? " 
 
 " Second-hand ! " and Wilky punctuated each syl- 
 lable with a defiant nod. " Secon'-hand preaching, 
 secon'-hand sermons, secon'-hand services, an' 
 secon'-hand revivals ! " 
 
 The momentary perplexity vanished from the 
 painter's face, he pushed his open fingers through 
 his hair, blinked his grey eyes, and answered in the 
 pulpit phraseology he never dropped except under 
 great excitement. 
 
 " Thou speakest as one of the foolish — a — a — men. 
 Thou looks at theworldthroughthe smoked glass o' thy 
 own worldly callin'. Thou'rt for the new, the cheap, 
 the flimsy, bogus new. Thou'rt bitten wi' the vice o' 
 the age, brother ! No man having drunk old wine 
 straightway desireth new, for he says the old is better."
 
 30 THE MINDER 
 
 " Old ! Ay ! Oldey an' mouldy ! " and with eyes 
 that glistened at his own unexpectedly brilliant 
 alliteration Wilky continued: "New times, new 
 men. New men, new methods ! New methods, new 
 Methodism, that's my motty ! We nivver gets a new 
 toot out of an old horn;" and gripping the stem of 
 his pipe with his forefinger, he glared defiantly at 
 Sampson and all the world besides. 
 
 " Wilky ! " replied the painter, rubbing his hands on 
 his apron and approaching the stove. " Thou rushes 
 like the unthinkin' horse into battle ! All the great 
 things is old. The cheap things nivver gets old. 
 Where's the old power ? Where's the old times of 
 refreshin' ? Where's the sons of thunder now ? " 
 
 " What about the super, then ? He's old enough, 
 surely to goodness ! leastways his sermons is, they 
 smell o' Wesley's saddlebags — regler green, mouldy 
 second-handers." 
 
 *' Speak not evil of dignitaries, brother ! Honour 
 them that's over us in the Lord. .Isn't he a 
 managing man? Doesn't he abide by the stuff? 
 He's a horganizer, he is ! What we want i' these 
 times is horganization." 
 
 But Wilky could listen no longer to *' Bosh " like 
 this; thrusting out his chest and jerking the words 
 forth like bullets from a pistol, he cried — 
 
 "That's it! That's it ! We axes bread an' you 
 gives us a stone ! We wants power an' you gives us 
 machinery ! We calls for life an' you gives us acorp! 
 Can you organise life into a corp? Can you hor- 
 ganize the Sperit ? We shall hear as Pentecost was 
 horganized next." 
 
 " Methodism declines, sir, because the Newtons an' 
 Punshons is gone," cried Sampson, now thoroughly 
 roused. "There are no men to lift up axes on the 
 big trees : there are no giants in the land in these 
 days ! What we want is more Boanergeses an' not
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL lEXPERTS 31 
 
 misnancified striplings \vi' little sermonettes ! Our 
 fathers, where are they ? An' the prophets, do they 
 Hve for ever? " 
 
 " Ay, an' if young men would do, we canna get 
 'em," chimed in a strange voice ; and as the debaters 
 turned they were joined by old Zeph Wood with a 
 newspaper in his hand. " Summat's wrong, some- 
 where. We want young men an' they don't come 
 forrad. Listen to what t' Times says." 
 
 "T' Times," snorted Sampson, throwing back his 
 head in contempt, for the mention of that publication 
 was like shaking a red rag at a bull. As there was 
 not much light, and Zeph's eyes were not as good as 
 they had been, he stepped to the door and com- 
 menced reading a paragraph which expressed a fear 
 that the supply of candidates at the approaching 
 March quarterly meetings would not be equal to the 
 needs of the Church, and calling upon young men 
 of talent and education to resist the temptations of 
 mercantile success and consecrate themselves to the 
 service of their fellows. 
 
 " Just so ; just so ! " said Sampson reluctantly, for 
 this once only acknowledging the wisdom of what 
 he had heard. " T' old preachers is dyin' off an' t' 
 young uns can't do nothin', an' — an' we can't get 'em 
 if they could." 
 
 "T' chat! " rapped out Wilky, overlooking the 
 inconsistency of Sampson's remark. ** We've brains 
 enough i' Methodism to manage a — a — t' universe! 
 They can have five hundred candidates if they'll open 
 their mouths." 
 
 " Ay ! we could find 'em one or two i' this circuit 
 if they were fast," and old Zeph nodded significantly 
 at Wilky, but avoided the eye of the painter. 
 
 " This circuit ! why we haven't even a decent 
 local-a-a a — 'mong t' young uns," he added, as a 
 cover for himself and Wilky.
 
 32 THE MINDER 
 
 " Hav'n't we? We 'ave that. We've one or two 
 as 'ud make rippin' ministers," spurted out the 
 broker. 
 
 Sampson looked very doubtful whether " rippin' " 
 was a proper term to apply to the cloth, but his 
 curiosity was stronger than his taste, and so he asked 
 cautiously, " Well, who are they ? " 
 
 And Zeph with a glance at the diminutive furniture 
 dealer for support, turned his face to the painter and 
 said boldly, " Well, your Johnny for one." 
 
 To say that Ledger was taken aback by this 
 suggestion is an utterly inadequate way of describing 
 his appearance. He gasped, opened his mouth, 
 threw back his hair, and then after a long stare at 
 Zeph, shook his head ; but all these signs did not 
 conceal from his friends the look of eager pride that 
 rose into his eyes and puckered his face into a sort of 
 painful smile. 
 
 "Whist! brethren, whist! Don't trifle with a 
 subject like this ! Our John's a good lad, but that — 
 why it would be rank presumption." All the same 
 he glanced inquiringly at Wilky to see how he was 
 taking the idea. 
 
 John had none of the ready volubility and demon- 
 strativeness of his father, and was made in an 
 altogether different mould, and Wilky had declared 
 again and again in that shop that he would never be 
 the man his father had been. 
 
 " No, friends," Sampson went on. " He's my own 
 lad, an' as good as goold, but he hasn't the gifts, 
 though I say it myself — he hasn't the proper gifts." 
 
 But this was the opportunity for which the con- 
 tradictious little broker had been waiting. 
 
 " No," he jerked out, "he hasn't the gifts, as you 
 call 'em, an' thank the Lord he hasn't." 
 
 Both his companions turned upon him with 
 astonishment, and rising to his feet and glaring at
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 33 
 
 them defiantly whilst he drew himself up to the 
 utmost of his four feet something he repeated — 
 
 "Thank God, I say, he hasn't! We don't want 
 the windy washy blethering tub-thumping of the 
 * good old times.' We want hideas, we want thoughts, 
 we want arguments an' brains, that's what we want, 
 an' that lad shall be brought forrad at t' Quarterly 
 meeting or I'll know the reason why." 
 
 As both the friends looked the little man over 
 curiously, he hitched himself up upon the stump seat 
 and began dangling his little legs against the sides. 
 
 *' I suppose it rests wi' the super., after all ? " said 
 Zeph, feeling his way to something definite. 
 
 " The super, must move first, an' we must move the 
 super.," cried Wilky oracularly, and then dropping 
 suddenly into a loud whisper he added, "an' by 
 George here he comes ! " 
 
 The painter's shop was an institution in Bramwell ; 
 the new ministers as they arrived began by suspecting 
 and disliking it, then they came to tolerate and fear 
 it, and generally ended by accepting and making the 
 best of it. It was a sort of left wrist of the body 
 ecclesiastical, where the pulse of the circuit might be 
 felt. It was also the best place to procure or at least 
 to hear of supplies for vacant pulpits, and its 
 proximity to the cattle market made it a convenient 
 place for the leaving of parcels of circuit plans, 
 magazines, and messages for country officials. Super- 
 intendents, therefore, made use of it somewhat 
 frequently, and all the more willingly, perhaps, because 
 they could always pick up there the latest circuit 
 gossip and the first mutterings of ecclesiastical 
 thunderstorms, with the comfortable knowledge that 
 the trouble, when it did come, would certainly not be 
 worse than it had been represented at the paint shop. 
 
 " Morning, brethren ! Still cold, isn't it ? " and the 
 super., a florid, well-groomed man of fifty-five or so, 
 
 M. D
 
 34 THE MINDER 
 
 strolled into the shop and made his way towards the 
 stove. Wilky immediately slipped down from the 
 stump and retreated to the bench, whilst the painter 
 carefully dusted the top of the seat and obsequiously 
 invited the super to accept the stool of honour. Mr. 
 Haley protested against dethroning Wilky, but as 
 everybody insisted that he must occupy it, he sat 
 down, and leaning his arms on the top of his stick 
 turned his face towards the door as everybody else 
 did, so that they could sit and talk and still watch 
 the street and the passers-by going to the station. 
 
 " Well, Methodism's comin' to somethin' now, 
 Mestur Super.," said Zeph, who seemed strangely 
 interested for him in the question of the supply of 
 the ministry. 
 
 The super, knew his men too well to be easily 
 drawn, and so he enquired in his easiest manner — 
 
 " Why, what is the matter now, Mr. Wood ? " 
 
 Zeph, who had dropped upon the bench alongside 
 Wilky, gave his companion a sly nudge to invite his 
 assistance, but the little broker was thinking hard, 
 and earnestly watching the minister, and so did not 
 feel the jog. 
 
 " Hav'n't you seen that piece in the Times? It 
 seems we cannot get no ministers." 
 
 The super, laughed. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! that's a new idea ! I think I've heard 
 brother Drax say we have too many already ' of 
 the sort.'" 
 
 As both his friends knew that this was one of 
 Wilky's favourite positions, but that it would not 
 exactly fit in with their present designs, they looked 
 to see how he was taking the home-thrust ; but he 
 simply stared steadily before him, blinked his eyes 
 rapidly and puffed away stolidly at his pipe, which 
 had long since gone out. 
 
 " Still if there is a scarcity, sir," began Zeph
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 35 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! no such thing. We want quahty, not 
 quantity, eh, brother Drax ? " 
 
 Wilky puffed away at the useless pipe more stoHdly 
 than ever. 
 
 " It's a great while sin' we sent on3'body out fro' this 
 circuit," said the painter in a cautious, tentative way. 
 
 "They canna' send thersel's out — they've to be 
 brought out," said Zeph, who had, evidently, difficulty 
 in restraining himself. 
 
 " Steady, brethren ! Don't let that paper alarm you ! 
 There's nothing worse than getting up a scare and 
 dragging in all and sundry ; we've suffered from 
 that before." 
 
 Wilky's tight mouth emitted an indescribable sort 
 of snort, and Zeph looked apprehensively round at 
 him, fearing he was going to say something personal 
 to the dignitary present, and the painter turned and 
 stared glumly through the dirty window. 
 
 " There were one went out o' this circuit every 
 year as Mr. Pyewell were super. — but that's a deal o' 
 years sin' now," persisted Zeph. 
 
 " But you can't bring them out if you hav'n't got 
 them, brother Wood ; we cannot make preachers, you 
 know," replied the super., who began to suspect there 
 was something behind old Zeph's most unusual 
 persistence. 
 
 "No! an' when God makes 'em and sticks 'em 
 under our stupid noses we cannot see 'em," and 
 having shot out, bullet-like, this unexpected fling, 
 Wilky threw one of his diminutive legs on the bench 
 and lolled back with the air of a man who has, at 
 last, said his say. 
 
 The super, began to rise from his stump seat ; these 
 men were evidently after something, but he was not 
 going to be dragged into a ridiculous position just to 
 please them, and so he thought of beating a retreat. 
 
 " Well," he laughed, conciliatorily, " if some of you 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE MINDER 
 
 brethren had been younger something might have 
 been done, but " 
 
 " Instead of the fathers shall come up the 
 children," rapped out Wilky sententiously, and the 
 super., who was already on the move, turned round in 
 puzzled surprise and looked from one to the other of 
 the companions. 
 
 " The children ! But none — ah ! oh ! do you 
 mean young John Ledger ? " 
 
 Nobody answered, and the minister, to whom the 
 idea thus unexpectedly presented appeared perfectly 
 absurd, moved a little nearer the door. It was the 
 last thing he would ever have thought of, but whether 
 to get away before he was cornered or say something 
 that would nip the notion in the bud at once he 
 could not quite decide. 
 
 " The standard is so very much higher than it 
 used to be, you see, and it rises every year," he said 
 dubiously at last. 
 
 " What standard ? " demanded Wilky with a snap. 
 
 " The standard of education and general culture, 
 you know." 
 
 Wilky was evidently expecting this answer and 
 waiting for it. Everybody anticipated an explosion, 
 but to their surprise he seemed to change his mind 
 all at once, and staring hard at a pile of wall papers 
 on the other side of the shop he said, in slow musing 
 tones — 
 
 "Ay! t' Almighty makes some terrible blunders 
 sometimes." 
 
 Every man present uttered a shocked ejaculation, 
 but Wilky had evidently not finished. Giving 
 himself a little twist, as though to assist the processes 
 of thought, he went on in mock apologetics — 
 
 " But I reacon He isn't heddicated neither." 
 
 They were all used to extravagant things from 
 Wilky, but this seemed to border on the blasphemous,
 
 SUNDRY ECCLESIASTICAL EXPERTS 37 
 
 and the super, was just about to rebuke him when he 
 went on in the same pitying apologetic tones — 
 
 " You see he hadn't Conference to keep him right 
 i' them times." 
 
 " Drax ! whatever are you driving at ? What 
 times ? " 
 
 " T' Bible times. You see, we have no account o' 
 t' prophet EHsha's examination marks, an' we don't 
 know as t' apostles even preached trial sermons." 
 
 The minister laughed, with a curious mixture of 
 amusement and irritation. 
 
 " Well ! well ! but you see we must have educated 
 men, when all's said and done." 
 
 " Sartainly ! an' t' Almighty were wrong when he 
 called Elisha, the ploughman, and Peter, the fisher- 
 man, and Bunyan, the tinker, and Peter Mackenzie, 
 the colher. Why didn't he consult t' Conference ? " 
 
 The super, began to feel that he was demeaning 
 himself by arguing with men holding ideas like these, 
 and he threw up his head and started to leave. 
 
 But just before he reached the door the painter, 
 who was still staring hard through the window, asked 
 without turning his head — 
 
 '' What's t' H institutions for, Mr. Super.? " 
 
 *' Yes ! oh yes ! " cried the super., turning round 
 again a little irritably, " We can give them education 
 if they have got decided gifts. Has young John got 
 gifts, that's the question, and does he feel called to the 
 work ? ' ' and he glanced enquiringly towards the painter. 
 
 Sampson waved his hand grandiloquently. 
 
 " Respecting gifts, I'm his father, he is of age ; 
 ask him, he shall speak for himself." 
 
 Mr. Haley stood in the doorway meditating. 
 
 " Well," he said at length, " I certainly never 
 thought of such a thing myself, but I'll think about 
 it and make a few enquiries and see, and in the 
 meantime let nobody say a word to the young fellow
 
 38 THE MINDER 
 
 himself," and with a cautionary nod and a curt 
 " Good morning," he disappeared. 
 
 Before he had got many yards away from the shop 
 Zeph rushed at the painter, and smiting him heavily 
 on the back he cried — 
 
 " It's done, lad ! it's done ! Yond fellow always 
 puts the worst side out." 
 
 But Sampson was now on his dignity; the idea 
 they had been discussing had never entered his head, 
 but it was already realized to his sanguine mind, and 
 imparted to his manner some of the dignity which he 
 imagined became the father of a minister. Then 
 another idea possessed him ; parents who had sons 
 in the ministry were always supposed to have made 
 some great sacrifice in giving up their beloved ones 
 to the service of the Church, and so, whilst his 
 companions were discussing the situation, he was 
 conjuring up suitable emotions, and when Zeph 
 turned round to congratulate him he was met with a 
 look of martyr-like resignation, and Sampson, with 
 a doleful face, shook his head, and heaving a 
 prodigious sigh groaned out — 
 
 " It'll be an awful wrench." 
 
 Wilky gave a snort of disgust, whilst Zeph 
 demanded in amazement — 
 
 "What 'ull be a wrench ? " 
 
 Sampson shook his head again, gave his long nose 
 a hasty upward wipe, drew in his lips with sorrowful 
 but relentless resolution, and then, disregarding the 
 question just asked, he snivelled — 
 
 " But I'll take up my cross ! I'll take up my cross ! 
 Lord help me ! " 
 
 And Wilky, the uncompromising hater of all 
 humbug, stuck one of his little legs upon the stove 
 and snarled out contemptuously — 
 
 " Ay ! take it hup, lad ; it 'ull be a change for 
 thee, anyway."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IN WHICH THE SUPERINTENDENT SURPRISES AND 
 IS SURPRISED 
 
 The Reverend William Haley was a strong man, 
 and not the least likely to be unduly influenced by 
 the things he had seen and heard at the paint shop. 
 He held strong views, also, on the absolute necessity 
 of an educated ministry. But he was a Methodist, 
 and shared to the full the democratic belief that God 
 was as likely to call a plough-boy to the ministry as 
 a University graduate. He knew, also, that some of 
 the strongest men in the brotherhood were of the 
 lowliest origin. But he held, also, that obscure youths 
 must give evidence of the possession of unusual gifts, 
 and that if they had such endowments they would 
 evidence them by surmounting, by some means or 
 other, mere educational difficulties. But young John 
 Ledger had not attracted his attention in any way 
 whatever, and he could not remember to have heard 
 a single thing about him indicative of special talent. 
 There was no man on the plan, in fact, of whom he 
 had heard less, and the only things he could recall 
 at all were remarks made by country hearers that 
 John was not the least bit like his father ; and as the 
 older man was notoriously popular, and the remarks 
 were somewhat regretfully made, he was forced to 
 the conclusion that John was a very ordinary young 
 fellow. Well, he was not going to be forced into 
 bringing forward an unsuitable candidate, either by
 
 40 THE MINDER 
 
 impetuous " locals " like the little broker, or anybody 
 else ; but as it was Monday morning, which he 
 generally spent in working off little odds and ends of 
 business, he would see what other people thought 
 about the suggestion and act accordingly. Bulwood, 
 the senior steward, "did not even know the young 
 fellow by sight," and Raskelf, the ex-steward and a 
 Conference man, said *' John was a pious, well- 
 meaning young fellow, who had got further than he 
 ever expected him to do when he vv'as promoted to 
 ' full plan.' " Then the super, remembered that John 
 had never preached at the circuit chapel, and that, 
 therefore, it was unfair to him to consult those 
 who had never heard him. Consequently, he next 
 applied to Parbold, the saddler, a strong, sensible 
 local preacher, who, by reason of his business con- 
 nections with the Methodists of the country places, 
 and his keen interest in young men, would be able 
 to tell him all he wanted to know. 
 
 Parbold had great respect for John, but he could 
 say nothing very encouraging about his preaching. 
 It wanted more of his father's "go" and sparkle. 
 For the first time during these enquiries, the super, 
 ventured to hint at his reason for making them, and 
 Parbold shook his head very decidedly, and said that 
 he should very much like to see a young man " go 
 out " from the Bramwell circuit, but mentioned the 
 names of two or three others, who were, in his judg- 
 ment, more likely than John. The super, was inclined 
 to regard this as decisive, but just as he was crossing 
 the market-place on his way back to the paint shop, 
 he ran across his colleague, who was in his third 
 year, and therefore knew more of such matters than 
 he could possibly do himself, as he was only about 
 half-way through his first year. The Rev. T. Burcliffe 
 was warm in John's praises, and described him as a 
 studious, painstaking young fellow, who made up for 
 
 I
 
 A DOUBLE SURPRISE 41 
 
 the lack of showy gifts by assiduous application ; 
 but when the object of the super.'s enquiries was 
 named to him, he hesitated, and ventured the opinion 
 that such a thing had never entered the Minder's 
 head. Well, then, if John had never thought of it, 
 and the people who would have to vote on the 
 subject had never thought of it, what was the use of 
 the super, bothering his head about the notions of 
 such irresponsible and scatterbrain fellows as the 
 frequenters of the paint shop. Besides, he was in 
 his first year, and did not know enough to justify 
 his undertaking so serious a task as that of piloting 
 a candidate through the examinations and tests 
 required. Of course, he could get John to preach 
 for him some week-night in the circuit chapel ; but 
 why should he give himself the trouble about so very 
 dubious a case ? No ! he would not absolutely shelve 
 the question, but he could at any rate defer it for a year. 
 But that same afternoon, whilst doing a little 
 pastoral work, he received two spontaneous testi- 
 monies about a sermon young Ledger had preached 
 recently at the mission-room, both accounts being 
 given in a manner which showed that the speakers 
 had no idea whatever of the suggestions which had, 
 that morning, been made to him. He was the last 
 man in the world to be superstitious about coinci- 
 dences, but certainly he thought this a little remark- 
 able ; and when, after the Monday night prayer 
 meeting, Nash, the fishmonger, as they walked home 
 together, unconsciously revealed to the minister the 
 genesis of the whole project, he was more impressed 
 than ever. It appeared that the week previous, 
 Nash, old Zeph Wood, and two or three others, had 
 been conversing together at Nash's stall in the market, 
 when some one alluded to the very sermon the 
 minister had heard of twice before that day ; and old 
 Job White, a shrewd but cautious and fastidious
 
 42 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 sermon critic, had predicted that John Ledger would 
 go into the ministry, " where his father ought to have 
 been before him." 
 
 This, then, was the origin of the whole thing, and 
 old Zeph Wood had evidently taken it up and intro- 
 duced it at the paint shop. The super, was perplexed. 
 Coming from such sources the suggestion certainly 
 need not be taken too seriously, and he still saw no 
 reason for proceeding further at present. But, on 
 the other hand, he did not want to stand in any man's 
 way, neither did he care unnecessarily to provoke 
 the opposition of the paint shop, of whose fighting 
 qualities he had heard so much. Then another idea 
 occurred to him ; he would send for John himself, and 
 sound him, and if what his colleague had said was 
 true, he would either stop the thing himself or give 
 some more substantial reason for proceeding. He 
 was a cautious man, and so dallied until Thursday 
 before he made up his mind, but on that day he sent 
 a note to Shed Lane, asking John to call upon him 
 on the following evening. 
 
 Meanwhile, in blissful unconsciousness of what was 
 preparing for him, John was prosecuting his court- 
 ship with delightful success. Sallie, with a charming 
 air of spoilt-childishness allowable always in invalids, 
 had quietly taken possession of him, and assumed 
 towards him the rights of a fiance, and the bewitched 
 minder, regarding this as a gentle womanly con- 
 sideration for his shyness, added intense gratitude to 
 all his other emotions, and was in the seventh 
 heaven of lover-like bliss. 
 
 But it was time he told his mother about it. He 
 and she had no secrets from each other, and though 
 it was not deemed strictly necessary for people in 
 their position of life to observe the formalities required 
 in other circles, he wanted to talk to somebody about 
 his happiness, and he knew perfectly well that his
 
 A DOUBLE SURPRISE 43 
 
 mother would be suspecting something, and would 
 be wondering why he did not speak. He got back 
 from the farm a little earlier than usual on Thursday 
 night, and found his father still out, and the rest in 
 bed. Now was his opportunity. 
 
 Mrs. Ledger was one of those meek, silent women, 
 to whom words seemed fearful things, to be used 
 sparingly, and so whilst John absently consumed his 
 supper, she moved softly about the house preparing 
 the breakfast he would take with him to the mill 
 next morning, 
 
 *' Sallie's a lot better, mother ; she'll be out by the 
 week-end." 
 
 Mrs. Ledger was seeking something in the little 
 side-cupboard near the window, and seemed to 
 have difficulty in finding it ; but John, if he could 
 have seen the quiet face, would have been alarmed 
 at the cloud which suddenly spread over it. She did 
 not speak, however, and John, occupied with his own 
 happy thoughts, and looking smilingly sideways into 
 the fire, went on with a glad little laugh — 
 
 ** Hey ! I thought she would have been hard to 
 catch, but she wasn't." 
 
 Mother had found what she wanted in the cupboard, 
 and, returning to the table, commenced sprinkling 
 salt upon the little cold meat sandwich she was 
 preparing. In anybody else the silence would have 
 been noticeable, but John was used to her speech- 
 less wa3's. 
 
 " I've thought of her for a long time, but I couldn't 
 pluck up. I can hardly believe it yet ; it is so sudden." 
 
 He glanced up at her face as he said this, but she 
 turned her head away ; and just when he had con- 
 cluded that she was not going to reply, she bowed 
 her head over the little bundle of victuals, and said 
 in low tones — 
 
 " Ay, lad, too suddin,"
 
 44 THE MINDER 
 
 *' Mother ! " 
 
 "An' too easy, too." 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 He was looking at her with amazed and distressful 
 looks. He had always been so sure of her, and as 
 he stared she put out her hand as though warding off 
 some attack, and went on protestingly — 
 
 " I dunna' like it ! I canna' help it, John, but I 
 dunna' like it ! " 
 
 " Why, mother, I thought you liked Sallie ! You 
 never said anything ! " 
 
 But she only dropped into her own iron-rockered 
 chair with a weary, perplexed shake of the head. 
 
 " I dunna' like it ! " 
 
 " But I've thought about her a long time. Couldn't 
 you see that ? " 
 
 " Ay, an' so could she." 
 
 John sprang to his feet in utter distraction. 
 
 " But, mother ! I couldn't ask her till I'd got 
 my wheels ! " 
 
 And the agitated woman looked long and dreely 
 into the fire, and then, turning her eyes full upon 
 him so that he was compelled to meet them, she 
 asked — 
 
 " Did you ask her, lad ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother ! That is — I mean — I did what was 
 the same thing. But whatever does all this mean ? 
 What's got into your head, mother ? " 
 
 But the slow-speaking woman had resumed her 
 musing contemplation of the fire, and presently she 
 gave herself a sudden shake and rose to her feet. 
 
 " God forgi' me ! " she cried. '* I believe I'm 
 jealous o' t' lass. Heaven bless you both, lad ! " 
 and then her eyes filled with tears. " I'se be number 
 two now, I reacon ! " And as John was opening his 
 mouth to protest, a light broke through the tears, 
 and she went on in tremulous tones — " But I'd rather
 
 A DOUBLE SURPRISE 45 
 
 be number two wi' thee than number one wi' any- 
 body else." 
 
 It was perfectly clear to John that this sudden 
 turn of topic was intended to be a shelving of the 
 matter for the present, and though it did not in 
 the least accord with his own views, he knew it was 
 no use trying just now to get anything further out of 
 his mother ; however tantalising to himself and unjust 
 to Sallie, he must wait. He hastened to bed, there- 
 fore, and spent weary hours in trying to fathom the 
 mystery of her opposition. That it was not mere 
 jealousy he knew well enough ; but what there was 
 lying behind his mother's words he could not for the 
 life of him divine. It occupied his thoughts all next 
 day, and was only temporarily displaced by curiosity 
 when, on his return home in the evening, his mother 
 handed to him the super.'s note. It was a brief 
 request that he would call some time that evening at 
 the Manse, and his first surmise was that it meant a 
 request to take somebody else's appointment on the 
 approaching Sabbath. A few minutes before eight, 
 washed, and dressed in his Sunday best — for a visit 
 to the Manse was a ceremonious occasion — he pre- 
 sented himself at the minister's residence, and was 
 ushered into the study. 
 
 " Oh ! come in, Mr. John. Glad to see you ! " 
 
 " You want to see me, sir." 
 
 ** Yes ! I want to have a bit of talk to you. Sit 
 down, and draw near the fire." And the minister 
 fell upon an obdurate piece of coal in the grate, 
 and having satisfactorily demolished it, still retained 
 the poker in his hand, and twirling it rapidly round, 
 he asked — " How do you get on with your preaching, 
 Mr. John ? " 
 
 John's heart sank. The super, had heard com- 
 plaints, and was going to lecture him. 
 
 '* Not very well, sir, I'm afraid."
 
 46 V THE MINDER 
 
 The super., still toying with the little poker, eyed 
 him over hesitantly ; the youth was either very 
 modest or very sly. 
 
 *' Do you enjoy preaching ? Now, don't be afraid. 
 I've a reason for asking." 
 
 " Reason enough," thought John. \Vell, if he was 
 going to be invited to give up preaching, it would, on 
 the whole, be a relief. 
 
 " I can't say that I do, sir — not yet," and he 
 seemed to sink back further and further into the arm- 
 chair on which he sat so stiffly as though he would 
 like to have disappeared altogether. 
 
 The super, eyed him over sideway, and could not 
 help thinking what sallow weedy youths these factory 
 lads were. 
 
 " H'm. Ah — what educational advantages have 
 you had ? Only the Board school, I suppose ? " 
 
 "That's all, sir, and a few evening classes." And 
 John felt rather glad to have this chance of saying 
 so. It would be some sort of excuse for his poor 
 preaching. 
 
 " Evening classes ? What subjects did you take ? " 
 
 " Mechanical and technical." 
 
 " Oh ! to help you in your work, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Mr. Haley was puzzled. This young fellow was 
 ingenuosity itself ; there seemed no presumptuous 
 ambition here. But John was thinking too. The 
 super, evidently had something unpleasant to say, but 
 was too kind-hearted to say it. Well, he would help 
 him, and get it over at once. 
 
 " I'm sorry I don't do better in preaching, sir ; but 
 I'll give it up willingly if you think it would be better." 
 
 The super, knit his brow and looked at John as 
 though he would have read his soul. Was this fellow 
 what he seemed, or was he only an unusually sly dog. 
 The scowling gaze embarrassed John, and he moved
 
 A DOUBLE SURPRISE 47 
 
 his eyes about nervously. Oh, why didn't he get 
 it over ? 
 
 " Then you really don't enjoy preaching ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I don't ; and a — a — I think I'd better 
 give in my plan at once," and the disheartened fellow 
 began fumbling in his pocket. 
 
 " Wait a moment. Have 3^ou ever thought of 
 becoming a candidate for the ministry ? " And as he 
 asked the question the minister shot at his visitor a 
 keen glance, and put the poker carefully in its place. 
 
 The glance told him all he wanted to know. Yes, 
 he had hit the bull's eye at last, and surprised his 
 secret out of him. John's eyes, which had for the 
 moment opened with amazement, all at once became 
 dim. He felt that his sallow face was burning, and 
 all at once he fell forward, and burying his face in 
 his hands, uttered a smothered sob. 
 
 The super, pulled himself together. Yes, he had 
 this ambitious lad's deepest secret — that tell-tale look 
 was eloquent of much. Well, he must put him right 
 and make him understand what this wild dream of 
 his meant. 
 
 " Well, John ! you don't answer me ? " 
 
 There was a momentary silence, and then the 
 young local preacher rose to his feet, his face white 
 and stern, his lips quivering, and his eyes blazing. 
 
 "There's my plan," he cried, in choking tones; 
 "and the next time you want a young fellow to 
 resign, please remember that even factory lads have 
 feelings, and do your work less cruelly." 
 
 " Cruel, sir? " 
 
 " Yes, cruel ! cruel in anybody. But doubly cruel 
 in you — God forgive me for speaking to my minister 
 like this." 
 
 The super, was dumbfounded. 
 
 "John, whatever have you got in your head? 
 What do you mean ? "
 
 48 THE MINDER 
 
 ** I mean this, sir. You seem to think that because 
 I'm poor and ignorant I'm not capable of the desire 
 to do Christ's work for Christ's sake, but must of 
 necessity be casting my eyes on the holy office you 
 hold. It's cruel, sir ! it's unchristian ! " 
 
 The minister stepped over the hearthrug and drew 
 John back into his chair, 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, huskily, " sit down. 
 I'm afraid we have been talking at cross purposes. 
 Now, the fact is, I've heard some excellent things 
 lately about your preaching, and the other day it 
 was suggested to me that you might make a minister, 
 and I've sent for you here to-night to talk about it." 
 
 John listened to his pastor with suspicious, 
 incredulous eyes. 
 
 " Then you hav'n't any fault to find with me, sir? " 
 
 " Fault ? not at all ! Who put that notion into 
 your head ? Look here " — and the minister felt that 
 he was making a plunge now, but had grown a little 
 reckless from what he had seen and heard — " if you 
 feel inclined to offer yourself for the ministry, I'll 
 bring you forward." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! " and John showed such signs of return- 
 ing distress that the minister hastened to pacify him. 
 
 " Well, well, you are taken unawares ! Go home 
 and think about it, and come and see me again." 
 
 " Sir ! " cried John, vehemently. " As God is my 
 witness, I have never thought of such a thing. It's 
 preposterous ! I'm a factory lad, sir." 
 
 The minister paused and reflected. 
 
 " Well, but, now that it has been suggested to you, 
 the call of the " 
 
 " Don't, sir ! Don't ! I cannot ! I will not hear 
 of it. It would be sinful presumption ; it would be 
 the sin of Korah." 
 
 " Oh, take a little time " — the minister was 
 amazed to find himself actually pressing this factory
 
 A DOUBLE SURPRISE 49 
 
 lad,- but he was not quite responsible for himself just 
 then — " Take a little time, and see me again." 
 
 John rose to his feet, and modestly put out his 
 hand. 
 
 " No, sir! it was hard to believe you at first, and 
 it gets harder as I think of it. I'll try and do my 
 duty in the position in which God has placed me, but 
 I hope neither you nor anyone else will ever mock me 
 by suggesting it again." 
 
 These were daring, almost rude, words, but when 
 his visitor had gone, the super, still stood on the 
 hearthrug, musing on the strange interview which 
 had just closed. 
 
 " But I shall think of it, my young friend, and 
 watch you too, and if your head turns out to be as 
 good as your heart, it shall go hard with William 
 Haley if he does not make a minister of you after all." 
 
 And next day every Methodist almost in Bramwell 
 heard the amazing intelligence that John Ledger, 
 the factory lad, had had a chance of going into the 
 ministry, and had refused. 
 
 M.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 JOHN FINDS THERE ARE MORE WAYS OF LOOKING 
 AT A THING THAN ONE 
 
 When John left the minister's house that night 
 he was still smarting under a sense of humiliation ; 
 the super's words had touched him upon one of his 
 tenderest points. Lancashire people have an idio- 
 syncrasy which seems to a stranger a contradiction. 
 They are free-spoken, self-reliant, and independent 
 in the extreme, and insist tenaciously that " Jack is 
 as good as his master," and yet amongst themselves 
 they have an intense, almost morbid, horror of any- 
 thing approaching to pretentiousness, any attempt 
 to appear other than they are being keenly resented 
 upon the offenders. And John was thoroughly 
 Lancashire, and took a pride in knowing his place 
 and keeping it. He had listened again and again to 
 conversations between young fellow-preachers, and 
 had detected their ill-concealed aspirations to the 
 ministerial office with surprise and contempt ; and 
 here the very first time he gets a peep into the mind 
 of his ecclesiastical chief, he makes the humiliating 
 discovery that he is supposed to entertain these 
 ignorant and vulgar ambitions himself. Of course 
 he was greatly exaggerating the thing ; he was 
 morbidly sensitive, and possessed quite his share of 
 that poor person's pride which is as real and unrea- 
 sonable as the kind he so fiercely hated in others. 
 He paused when he got a few yards from the Manse,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 51 
 
 and looked absently up at the murky, moonless 
 sky. The minister's proposal had been seriously 
 made, that was clear, but that only meant that 
 people had been talking, and had in their minds 
 credited him with the wicked ambition he so much 
 despised. Oh ! why couldn't people let him alone ! 
 If he had done anything remarkable, or had made 
 any uncommon impression as a preacher, there might 
 have been some justification for the proposal, but to 
 make it to him, the feeblest of the feeble, was only to 
 show how ingrained was the belief that all his work 
 had been done from more or less ulterior motives. 
 Thinking thus, he began to move homewards, and 
 as he did so, he recalled the minister's encouraging 
 reports of his preaching, and whilst it made him 
 resolve to work harder than ever, it galled him to 
 think how he was being misunderstood. The fact 
 was he had suffered so long from overwork and insuffi- 
 cient food and premature earthly anxieties that he 
 had little of the buoyancy of his age, and was most 
 painfully prone to pensive and self-depreciatory views 
 of things. It was too late by this time to think of 
 visiting Sallie that night, but the thought of her 
 brought comfort to his mind ; she at any rate would 
 understand him, and so he turned in home and got 
 to bed. Next day, as he mused over the transactions 
 of the previous evening, he saw more and more 
 reason to justify the course he had taken, and came 
 as near to self-complacency as he ever allowed him- 
 self to get. Alas! poor fellow, he had little idea of 
 what was in store for him. 
 
 As he sat over his dinner, and was just about to 
 tell his mother of his interview with the super., he 
 caught sight of his father, with long hair, coat-tails, 
 and whiskers, all flying behind, darting past the 
 window, and a moment later the painter burst into 
 the house, and standing with his hand on the door, 
 
 E 2
 
 52 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 he cried, " Thou mun come, lad ! Pickles will be 
 here at five o'clock for yond window-sashes. Come 
 an' help me to glaze 'em ! " and without waiting for 
 any reply, he banged the door and was off again. 
 
 John sighed, and glanced at his mother, whose 
 face wore an apologetic deprecating expression. It 
 was a very common thing for this erratic incon- 
 siderate parent of his to do, and John had grown 
 accustomed to having his one weekly half-holiday 
 thus filched away from him, but to-day he was 
 unusually disappointed, for he had been hoping to 
 spend the whole time with Sallie. He ate on, how- 
 ever, in silence, glancing every now and then at his 
 mother, whose manner seemed extremely restrained, 
 even for her. She had evidently not forgotten their 
 conversation of the night before, and it struck John 
 that with her well-known pride in her only son she 
 would be glad to hear what the minister had suggested. 
 
 *' Do vou know what the minister wanted me for 
 last nigljt, mother ? " 
 
 And to his surprise her face fell, the light faded 
 out of her eyes, and looking unsteadily out of the 
 window, she uttered a single muffled monosyllable, 
 "Ay!" 
 
 John had sudden misgivings, but choking them 
 back, and trying to speak as easily as he could, he 
 went on — 
 
 " Did you ever hear of such a thing ! " 
 
 Mrs. Ledger dropped heavily into a chair on the 
 other side of the table, and picking up her apron 
 began to pull nervously at the edges, but not a word 
 did she speak. 
 
 " It's a bit encouraging after all, isn't it ? " 
 
 And then the troubled mother dropped her elbow 
 on the table, and shading her eyes with her hand, 
 faltered out — 
 
 " It's broken my life-long dream."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 53 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 *' I've telled the Lord for twenty year He could 
 put what He liked on me, if nobbut — if nobbut " 
 
 " If only what, mother ? " 
 
 " If nobbut I could see my lad a minister." 
 
 John had been his mother's chief confidant as long 
 as he could remember anything, but though she had 
 always eagerly encouraged all his inclination towards 
 religion, and broken the silence of a lifetime by crying 
 out in tearful ecstasy when he went to the penitent 
 form, she had never given him the slightest idea of 
 the thought she had just expressed. It was highly 
 characteristic, however, and he understood that she 
 would have regarded any hints of hers as interferences 
 with the Divine will. All the same the discovery 
 greatly distressed him, and all the more so as he 
 realised how small hope there was of it ever being 
 fulfilled. There was a painful pause whilst he 
 struggled with these thoughts, and then he cried in 
 blank dismay — 
 
 "But, mother! I'm ignorant, and unqualified, 
 and — and — and we're poor ! " 
 
 " That's it ! that's it ! " she cried, setting her teeth 
 and clenching her hands in a passion of resentful 
 grief. " T' ministers talks about poverty being a 
 refiner. Oh, if they'd had it stoppin' their way an' 
 spoilin' their plans an' freezin' their love and wreckin' 
 their lives as I have, they wouldn't talk like that ! " 
 
 John listened with something approaching to 
 horror to this distressing outburst. He was burning 
 with desire to comfort ; the words would not come, 
 and so he slipped his hand across the table and 
 began to timidly stroke the back of his mother's. 
 She seemed to feel it, and a sort of shiver went 
 through her frame, and suddenly snatching at the 
 hand that touched hers she leaned forward, and with 
 hot pain-drawn face, she asked —
 
 54 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 '* Thou said ' No,' because thou knew we couldn't 
 do without thy wages ? " 
 
 " No ! mother. No ! it was because I knew I 
 wasn't fit. I hav'n't the gifts, you know." 
 
 Mother hfted her head with an irritated, impatient 
 gesture, evidently resenting this constant harping on 
 his lack of qualifications. She did not speak, how- 
 ever, but hung down her head, and sat looking 
 sorrowfully at her apron. Then she rocked herself 
 gently, and clearing her throat with an effort, she 
 moaned — 
 
 " I was feared as when t' time came I shouldn't 
 be counted worthy — Well ! His will be done." 
 
 And John, with a bursting sob, jumped up and 
 put his arms around her, and stroked her face and 
 crooned over her, and poured into her ears words 
 such as impassioned swain never uttered to fair 
 v.'oman, and she leaned her head against the back of 
 her chair, and sighed, and smiled, and then shyly 
 kissed his oily hand, and when on sudden remem- 
 brance of his father's summons he hastened away, 
 she still sat musing and softly crying, and at last she 
 murmured — 
 
 "Forgive me. Lord. There's nowt i' all heaven 
 Thou could gi' me after Thou'd gi'en me him — a — 
 a — nobbut Thyself." 
 
 It took John all his time to recover his composure 
 on his way to the paint shop, and his effort was not 
 made easier when on his arrival he discovered that 
 the summons had been more or less of a pretence ; 
 for the work was already nearly finished, and he 
 guessed at once that he had been called in order to 
 be *' carpeted " by the authorities about his refusal 
 to become a candidate for the ministry. He spoke 
 to his father on entering, but was received with 
 portentous silence, the painter, with a painfully 
 elongated face, looking at him fixedly for a moment,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 55 
 
 and then turning to his work again with a dismal 
 groan. 
 
 Sam Kepple sat upon the side bench, unable to 
 conceal how deeply the prospect opening before his 
 rival was affecting him. If John entered the ministry 
 he would, in Sam's view, cease to be a competitor 
 for Sallie's hand. 
 
 Wilky had relinquished his usual long clay for a 
 short briar, and as it was Saturday afternoon, he 
 hovered about the doorway, keeping a reluctant eye 
 upon the sundry articles of furniture displayed on 
 the pavement outside his place of business. 
 
 Sampson sighed again, and gave his long queer 
 head a melancholy shake, and Wilky emitted a 
 scornful snort and waddled to the door. 
 
 John had already possessed himself of putty and a 
 pane of glass, and had stooped down upon his toes 
 whilst he inserted the glass, when his father groaned 
 again, and muttered, as he ruefully shook his head, 
 " I have nourished and brought up children " — but 
 apparently his feelings were too deep for words, so he 
 left the quotation unfinished, and merely wagged his 
 head in weary despair. 
 
 Wilky was evidently swelling with suppressed 
 indignation. 
 
 " Thou nourished ! thou brought up ! " he rapped 
 out, and then he broke off with a smothered exclama- 
 tion of impatience, and hastening to the kerbstone, 
 he shouted across the street to a man examinmg a 
 second-hand perambulator of antique but sturdy 
 make, " Six shillin', wo'th more nor that for old 
 iron." And then he wheeled round, and standing 
 sideways in the doorway, prepared to keep up a 
 double-barrelled conversation, one in shouts across 
 the street, and the other in rasping snarls in the 
 shop. 
 
 The little broker's ideas of business were somewhat
 
 56 THE MINDER 
 
 peculiar. He was so uncompromisingly honest that 
 townspeople would gladly have done more business 
 with him than they did, but as the cardinal principle 
 guiding his professional conduct was that business 
 was an advanced form of philanthropy conducted by 
 himself and his fellow-tradesmen for the public good, 
 and out of pity for the ignorance and helplessness of 
 the average purchaser, he thought he had gone far 
 enough in the way of concession when he had pro- 
 vided articles they might need, and not only saw 
 no necessity for those little courtesies commonly 
 practised by the seller towards the buyer, but 
 regarded them as weak and cowardly panderings to 
 depraved tastes, and certain indications of ultimate 
 fraudulent intentions. 
 
 The painter was thrusting putty into a square, 
 groaning and shaking his head in a manner that 
 excited most savage feelings in the mind of Wilky, 
 who was watching him resentfully. Presently Samp- 
 son drew down the corners of his mouth, gave a 
 twist and a sniff to his nose, and glancing sorrowfully 
 over John's head, he remarked solemnly — 
 
 "And Jonah fled to Tarshish." 
 
 " Tarshish ! " Wilky fired off. " Ay, an' it's a pity 
 we hev no Tarshish now. I'd pay t' passage o' 
 some o' t' modern prophets if we could nobbut get 
 
 rid on 'em. First-class cabin fa " and then he 
 
 broke off, and rushing to the kerbstone, he bawled 
 out, " Ay, American cloth! common American cloth! 
 an' flocks ! Thou ought to hev live horse-hair 
 an' Rooshian Morocco for six shillin', oughtn't 
 thou ? " 
 
 Wilky's over-candid depreciation of the goods he 
 had for sale was in strict harmony with his whole 
 plan of business operations, and people took it as 
 they usually took the ordinary tradesman's special 
 recommendations,
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 57 
 
 The customer turned round, therefore, and began 
 to re-examine the vehicle, whilst Wilky, with a grunt 
 of disgust, strolled back into the paint shop. 
 
 Sampson, who during the interruption had removed 
 the window-sash upon which he was engaged, now 
 commenced upon the one John had in hand. He 
 groaned again and again whilst the broker was busy, 
 but when he came back into the doorway he looked 
 sheepishly round, and then, with a sigh of awful 
 significance, he murmured something about those 
 who, "having put their hands to the plough, looked 
 back." 
 
 ** Best thing as they could do," roared Wilky, " if 
 they are not ploughmen, but only tinkers an' tailors 
 an' — an' — Mollycots. Some on 'em neither looks 
 back'ard nor forrad, bud maks furrows all in and out 
 
 like a dog's hind leg. Every man to his tra " 
 
 but here he broke off again, and made another rush 
 to the kerb. " Five shilhn' ! " he shouted. " No ! 
 nor five-and-six, nor five and 'levenpence halfpenny ! 
 Six shillin' ! Hess, hi, hex — six, and bring' t' brass 
 here." 
 
 There was a little counter which stood lengthways 
 out from the window, and when Wilky had finished 
 with the customer, and had returned, he found 
 Sampson waiting for him behind the counter. 
 
 " Wilkinson," he demanded solemnly, as he pointed 
 a paintless dust-brush at the defiant broker, " wot 
 did t' apostle say about young Mark when he turned 
 back ? " 
 
 " T' apostle ? " and Wilky looked a httle blank 
 for a moment, for he was very fond of flinging St. 
 Paul at his opponents, and was now about to be 
 hoist with his own petard. But suddenly a flash of 
 recollection lighted his face, and drawing down his 
 thick eyebrows scowlingly, he demanded, " Which 
 apostle? "
 
 58 THE MINDER 
 
 " Which apostle ? " cried Sampson, stepping back 
 and surveying his friend with reproachful sorrow at 
 his evidently wilful ignorance and evasion. " Why the 
 apostle — the great apostle of the Gentiles." 
 
 This was what Wilky was waiting for. 
 
 " An' this is t' sort o' man as Stan's up i' pulpits ! 
 This is him as sets up as a hinstructor of the public ! " 
 he cried, apostrophising space, and then, pulling 
 up suddenly with a plunge against the counter, 
 he cried, " Has thou nivver heard of a man called 
 Barnabus ? " 
 
 " Barnabus ! What by him ? " asked Sampson, 
 with an uneasy sense that there was something he 
 ought to have remembered and didn't. 
 
 " Here's hignorance ! Here's blockheaded hig- 
 norance ! " and W^ilky stepped back, and flourishing 
 his left arm oratorically, " This Barnabus was an 
 apostle an' he backed Mark up an' trotted him out an' 
 made a man on him. That's wot Barnabus did." 
 
 But John had by this time finished his glazing, and 
 knowing that sooner or later he must go through the 
 ordeal, he rose from his stooping position, and looking 
 steadily at the last of the window-frames, he cried — 
 
 " What's the use o' talking? I hav'n't the gifts, 
 and you know I hav'n't." 
 
 Sampson sighed heavily, turned and looked long 
 and musingly out of the window, and then, punc- 
 tuating every word with a solemn wag of the head, 
 he said — 
 
 " That's just what Moses said, an' Joshua, an' 
 Jonah, an' Isaiah." 
 
 " Yes," jerked out Wilky, and the words followed 
 each other like pellets from a badly-working pop- 
 gun. " Bud numskulls never says it ! Thickheads 
 an' scatterbrains never says it ! They hav'n't sense 
 to know as they hav'n't ! T' fost sign o' brains is to 
 feel t' want on 'em."
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 59 
 
 " Whom the Lord calls, He qualifies," quoted 
 Sampson unctuously. 
 
 " Does he ? " and Wilky, ignoring altogether 
 John's right to a share in the discussion, plunged off 
 again more recklessly than ever. " Then t' biggest 
 part o' t' names upon our plan has nivver been 
 called — that's sartin. A hempty head's like a hempty 
 pot an' rattles all over, but a full head's like a full 'un 
 —silent." 
 
 John was laughing in spite of himself at this 
 characteristic outburst, and before he could straighten 
 his face, his father had turned upon him — 
 
 " Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel." 
 
 " But I will preach the Gospel, father, in my own 
 way, and to people of my own sort. To attempt the 
 other would be to bring the ministry into contempt." 
 
 Sampson turned away with a sigh, and Wilky was 
 just about to make some reply, when he spied a 
 woman examining a peggy tub and stick. She was 
 dumping the stick down upon the tub bottom, to 
 make sure that the wood was sound, and as this was a 
 sort of reflection on his character, and the woman 
 made her experiments none too gently, he stood 
 staring at her in speechless indignation for a moment, 
 and then, rushing out, he cried angrily — 
 
 " It's wood, woman ! — common English wood ! 
 It's not nine-inch armour-plate, it's wood ! " 
 
 For a moment or two John watched Wilky's 
 peculiar business methods with amusement, and 
 then, as his father seemed to be deprived of the 
 courage of his convictions in the absence of his 
 opponent, he moved quietly towards the door, and 
 was making off when Wilky spied him. The little 
 broker was giving change to his customer, but as he 
 observed John slipping away, he took the two half- 
 crowns, which he had placed temporarily in his 
 mouth, into his hands again, and leaving the female
 
 6o THE MINDER 
 
 standing where she was, he darted after the young 
 minder, crying — 
 
 " Here, here ! " And then rushing at him and 
 shaking his fists fiercely, he cried, " Thou's gotten 
 ower him, bud thou hesn't gotten ower me yet." 
 And with a nod of portentous warning, he turned 
 his back and went away to his business. 
 
 John, glad to have escaped his father and his 
 father's friends so easily, and eager to join his sweet- 
 heart, returned home in haste, and washed and 
 dressed himself. By this time his sister had pre- 
 pared tea, Mrs. Ledger being busy with customers ; 
 and though the young minder had hoped to take his 
 afternoon meal at the farm, he soon saw what was 
 expected of him, and sat down at the table. Lucy 
 then volunteered to attend to the shop, so that 
 "mother" could have her refreshment in peace. 
 John, who from long practice had come to be able to 
 read his mother like a book, was comforted to observe 
 that she had resumed her ordinary placidity of 
 manner, and chatted more freely than usual about 
 domestic and chapel matters. This was her world. 
 She was interested in little beyond. 
 
 Lucy, bright and merry, and dressed in a curious 
 mixture of working and holiday garments, took her 
 meal in the intervals of business, and slyly chaffed 
 John about his evident impatience to get through 
 what was usually the most leisurely meal of the 
 week ; and as mother seemed rather to enjoy this 
 banter, he lingered reluctantly at the table, reflect- 
 ing how soon he would be enjoying himself to the 
 full. Presently, however, he was able to make his 
 escape, and left the house to a running fire of roguish 
 cautions from his sister. 
 
 Well, he was done with this troublesome and 
 ridiculous ministry question, at any rate, and with 
 his own improving worldly prospects, and his 
 
 i
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 6i 
 
 remarkable and unexpected success in wooing Sallie, 
 life seemed less dull to him than it had appeared for a 
 very long time. He met old Zeph in the lane, and 
 his pleasure at the prospect of finding Salhe alone 
 was dashed by the curtness of the old man's salutation. 
 An uneasy pang smote his heart as he hurried on, 
 but remembering his own foolish proneness to believe 
 evil of his own affairs, he laughed a little forcedly, 
 and refused to be discouraged. 
 
 Yes, Sallie was alone, except that he could hear 
 someone — probably Robina, the day-girl — washing 
 up in the back kitchen. But Sallie was not dressed. 
 She still wore her ordinary working clothes, and her 
 face had a clouded, weary sort of look when he 
 entered. When he inquired somewhat anxiously 
 how she was she replied with cold indifference that 
 she was " Right enough," and looked anywhere and 
 everywhere except at him. He had dropped into a 
 chair beside her, and was looking eagerly into her 
 face ; but she averted her eyes and pushed back her 
 chair. Poor girl ! This was reaction and weakness 
 after her illness — these high-spirited people were all 
 subject to these trying fluctuations — so he sighed 
 sympathetically, looked dreely into the fire, and waited. 
 
 " I met your father in the lane. He seemed put 
 out a bit," he ventured at last. 
 
 " He might well," she responded, jerking her head 
 away, and looking cloudily at the circuit plan hanging 
 by the side of the fireplace. 
 
 " Why, what has happened ? There's nothing 
 wrong, is there ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, of course not ! " and she tossed her head 
 with angry scorn. 
 
 " Sallie, what's matter ? Whatever's to do ? " 
 
 She did not answer at first, but after a long pause 
 she turned and looked at him, and then, with 
 resentful contempt, she demanded —
 
 62 THE MINDER 
 
 " What have you been saying to Mr. Haley ? " 
 
 " Mr. Haley ? What about — the ministry, do you 
 mean ? But Sallie, it is ridiculous ! " 
 
 *' What's ridiculous ? " 
 
 " Me setting up for a preacher. It's presumptuous. 
 I couldn't think of it." 
 
 *' And what about me ? " 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes, me ! Do you think I should ever have 
 listened to you if I had thought you were going to be 
 nothing but a self-actor minder ? " 
 
 " Sallie ! " 
 
 And the look of utter amazement and horror on 
 John's face impressed even her ; but she stuck to 
 her point. 
 
 "Don't 'Sallie' me! If a man's no push and 
 ambition before he's married, what is he going to 
 be after ? That's how lots of girls spoil their 
 lives." 
 
 John gave a gasp of utter helplessness. A girl 
 with these views, he realized, would be utterly unable 
 to comprehend his position. 
 
 " Oh, Sallie, Sallie ! " he moaned ; and then, lean- 
 ing foward, he propped his elbows on his knees, and 
 hiding his face in his hands, uttered something very 
 like a sob. 
 
 Sallie had risen to her feet, and stood leaning 
 with one arm against the mantelpiece, watching him 
 intently, but with troubled though resolute face. 
 Presently, with an impatient little gesture, she 
 cried — 
 
 " Sit up with you, and be a man. A woman wants 
 somebody she can look up to — somebody that will 
 climb the ladder and pull her with him, someone to 
 live for and strive after." 
 
 " And I will ! " burst out John, and lifting a haggard 
 but eager face. " I will ! I'll work for you, slave for
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 63 
 
 you, do anything for you, but not that way, Sallie, 
 oh, not that way." 
 
 Sallie could scarcely contain herself with impa- 
 tience, but checking herself under the influence of 
 some fresh idea she leaned heavily against the 
 mantelpiece and drew her hand across her brow 
 with an evident effort at self-control. There was 
 silence for a few moments, and then as she looked 
 meditatively at him, as if debating some further ques- 
 tion, she moved softly towards him sideways, raised 
 her hand to his forehead, gently stroked back his 
 dark hair, and said — 
 
 " I wonder how it is that the best men have the 
 least ambition ! You were made for something better 
 than a minder, Johnny." 
 
 Her presence so near to him, her light, cool hand 
 on his brow, the soft coaxing sympathy in her voice, 
 and the caressing tone she threw into her pro- 
 nunciation of " Johnny " thrilled him through and 
 through, and as a new hope began to rise within him 
 he cried — 
 
 " Oh, Sallie, you don't understand ; let me explain 
 it all to you." 
 
 But she drew her hand down over his face, and 
 placed it upon his mouth. 
 
 " It's thee that doesn't understand, lad, but / do ; I 
 know what folk are saying about thee, and what thou 
 can do if thou likes. I'm ambitious, because I'm 
 proud of thee and — and — and — like thee. Thou'U have 
 to go on with this, for my sake and — and thy mother's." 
 
 The humble, caressing tone in which all this 
 was said, the loving significance of her use of the 
 familiar dialect, the subtle flattery interblended in 
 the words, and the touching and altogether unexpected 
 allusion to his mother, came rolling like so many 
 inbreaking waves over John's heart ; the pleasant- 
 ness, the worldly advantage, the popularity of the
 
 64 THE MINDER 
 
 course she was urging upon him, seemed to have 
 taken all the stiffening out of his resolution, and for 
 a moment or two he felt himself being swept along 
 helplessly towards surrender. But the very strength 
 of the rushing current saved him ; its force was the 
 measure, to him, of its dangerousness ; if he yielded 
 now he was undone for ever. All men have their 
 testing times, and his was come, and come in the 
 most dangerous of all possible forms. 
 
 *' Sallie," he cried, *' I cannot ! If it were a 
 worldly calling, an ordinary matter of life, I would 
 do anything to please you, but this is a holy calling. 
 No man taketh this office upon himself; it comes by 
 what I've never had — a call from God. You wouldn't 
 bring the curse of Korah on me, Sallie ?" 
 
 Sallie allowed his emotion to subside somewhat, 
 and then returned to the charge ; softly, coaxingly, 
 with pretty poutings one moment and subtle hints of 
 love the next, now patting his cheek and using such 
 terms of endearment as were rare and precious 
 amongst the reticent folk of her county and class, 
 and then putting her own soft lips to his and 
 whispering words that would have melted a Cybarite. 
 She did everything that woman's wit could think 
 of, and at last flung herself down into a chair, and 
 fell back on woman's last and mightiest argument — 
 tears. 
 
 Love, pity, self-reproach, and a miserable sense 
 that he was narrow, hard and pharasaical, struggled 
 for a while against these blandishments, and when 
 at last he heard her soft low sobs, and the hissing 
 of her tears as they fell on the hot fender, all 
 power of resistance was gone, and had she returned 
 to the attack at that moment it seems certain that 
 she would have carried her point. But she simply 
 sat where she was and cried, and John, sick with 
 embarrassment and penitence, held his tongue from
 
 OTHER PEOPLE, OTHER MINDS 65 
 
 sheer cowardice, until presently she rose from her 
 seat, made a dart for the staircase, and a moment 
 later, in spite of his attempt to stop her, had gained 
 her bedroom above. 
 
 John waited in sore distress for a few moments, 
 and then went to the bottom of the staircase, and 
 called — 
 
 " Sallie ! " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " I'll come again to-morrow, Sallie." 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 At that moment Robina the maid came into the 
 parlour, and John, partly to conceal his agitated 
 looks and partly to get time to think, opened the 
 front door and slipped out of the fold yard into 
 the lane. 
 
 M
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 SHOWS HOW SALLIE "WILL BE OF THE SAME 
 OPINION still" 
 
 It was twilight, and the stars were just appearing 
 when the young minder got into the open air, but 
 he noticed nothing. With head down and heart 
 sinking within him, he plunged along homeward 
 without any thought as to where he went or what 
 became of him. Suddenly he remembered that if 
 he returned so soon it would awaken his mother's 
 suspicions and lead to more anxiety on her part, 
 and perhaps to awkward questions. He stopped, 
 therefore, stood trying to collect his thoughts for a 
 moment, and then, turning back, got over a stile 
 and gained a footpath that led through Brinksway 
 Woods and over the hill into the Rushton and 
 Manchester turnpike. Crossing the fields, now 
 almost running in the agitation and impetuosity of 
 his thoughts, and now stopping to look distractedly 
 around, he presently crossed a little footbridge, 
 passed through a narrow wicket-gate into the wood, 
 and flung himself down under a great tree, and 
 burying his hot face in the new-springing bracken, 
 he groaned out a spasmodic prayer for help and 
 tried to collect himself. 
 
 It was a very difficult work, and for the first ten 
 minutes he simply rolled about on the ground and 
 moaned. Then he sat up, leaned his back against 
 the trunk of a tree and tried to clear his mind.
 
 SALLIE STILL HOLDS OUT 67 
 
 Where was he ? What was his position now ? And 
 immediately such a flood of bitter memories came 
 rushing upon him that he seemed completely over- 
 whelmed. Circumstances were all against him, and 
 wherever he turned for comfort he only met some 
 new phase of trouble. But life had taught John 
 Ledger the uselessness of mere repining, and so 
 with gathered brow and clenched hands he tried 
 to look the situation in the face. It seemed as 
 though he were resisting something which God and 
 man were combining to force upon him. Was he a 
 cowardly Jonah ? Was this his " watery deep " and 
 "whale's belly" ? and for the moment a wild, mad 
 hope, which he had been treading ruthlessly down in 
 his heart ever since this idea of becoming a minister 
 had been suggested, seemed to elude his grasp and 
 get the mastery. But it was only for a moment ; 
 that wicked worldly ambition which he had seen, 
 and been so keenly ashamed of in others, must 
 never get a foothold in his mind, its very presence 
 so close to him seemed to cheapen and vulgarise 
 him ; and as the easiest thing in the world to him 
 was to convict himself of some delinquency, he was 
 soon concluding that God had detected the risings 
 of ungodly pride in him, and was resorting to this 
 severe discipline in order to effectually exorcise the 
 evil spirit. And it was an added misery to him that 
 at the moment when everybody he cared for was 
 pushing him forward towards this great decision, he 
 was more absolutely certain than he had ever been 
 that to indulge the idea even for a moment would be 
 to dishonour himself, insult the great calling, and sin 
 against his Maker. 
 
 So clear indeed was all this to him, that he won- 
 dered with new dismay how it was that none of his 
 friends seemed able or willing to see the matter as he 
 did. He ought not to blame them ; in fact, he felt 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE MINDER 
 
 another pang of self-reproach at the very thought. 
 What they had said and done were so many signs of 
 interest in him, and interest for which he could never 
 be sufficiently grateful. Even Sallie's attitude, which 
 affected him most of all, was only the manifestation 
 of an ambition for him for which his lover's heart 
 ought to be both proud and thankful. It was only 
 that her standpoint was different, and that was not 
 very remarkable, seeing everybody agreed with her 
 and nobody with him. And then, as usual, it all 
 came back upon himself. He was odd, he was 
 different from anybody else. Was it not at bottom 
 a piece of mere pharisaism and self-righteousness ? 
 All this will seem very morbid to the healthy-minded 
 reader, but John Ledger was highly sensitive and 
 conscientious ; he had been trained in a narrow but 
 intense and introspective school of faith, and was 
 overworked and underfed, and just now, at any rate, 
 insufficiently vitalized, whilst the experiences of the 
 past few days had severely drained his already scanty 
 nervous resources, and so he dwelt long upon this 
 process of injurious self-condemnation. When he 
 came to ask himself, however, whether he or they 
 were right, the answer in his own heart was as 
 emphatic as ever ; he had no such gifts as this great 
 work required ; he had not sufficient education, and, 
 above all, he had no real call. He had risen to his 
 feet again by this time, for the ground was striking 
 the damp through his clothes. It was very still and 
 dark about him, and the sense of solitude which at first 
 had soothed now began to depress, and for a moment 
 he had to check a feeling that he wished his life's 
 battle were over, and his fretted heart for ever at rest. 
 Naturally, he thought most of the interview he 
 had just had with Sallie. The rest he could have 
 borne easily, but her attitude was not only serious in 
 itself, but derived an added significance from its
 
 SALLIE STILL HOLDS OUT 6g 
 
 agreement with the opinions of all the rest of his 
 friends. Then some of her words came back to him, 
 and with them the remembrance that they had 
 sounded hard and mercenary, but as this seemed 
 disloyal to her, he tried to dismiss it, and found more 
 difficulty than he had expected. He shook himself 
 to cast away unworthy suspicions, and resumed his 
 walk. Do what he might, however, he could not get 
 away from the feeling that Sallie cared more for his 
 prospects than she did for him, and he found him- 
 self fighting, not altogether successfully, the fear 
 that her sudden complacency towards him on the 
 night of the fateful kiss might have had its origin in 
 some wandering rumour that he was a probable can- 
 didate for the ministry. But this only led to a 
 further self-castigation. What a small, mean mind 
 he must have to be capable of such unworthy sus- 
 picions. It was mere coincidence. Sallie was a true, 
 honourable, open-minded girl, and though she did 
 not see this important matter as he would have 
 expected a Methodist of the third generation to do, 
 she was, at any rate, no worse than others, and, in 
 fact, her ambition might very well be the very 
 strongest proofs of her love. By this time he had 
 reached the highway, and was able to come to at 
 least a temporary decision. He would wait until 
 SaUie's evident anger had subsided, and then explain 
 things to her at length. He would show her the 
 difference between a profession and a holy caUing. 
 Probably, he told himself, she would see it, and if 
 she did not — well, he must leave that for the present. 
 He had grown calmer by this, but whether from peace 
 of mind or emotional exhaustion is an open question. 
 So he strolled slowly along, muttering now and again 
 a prayer for guidance, and presently he entered the 
 town, and made his way home. Arrived there, the 
 ruffled, though rather abashed, look of his father,
 
 70 THE MINDER 
 
 and the forced calm of his mother, indicated but too 
 clearly that there had been a domestic wrangle of 
 which he had been the subject. For though of late 
 the elder Ledger had shown a sort of fear for his son, 
 John knew only too well that what would once have 
 been said to him was now poured out unmercifully 
 upon the head of the patient mother he adored. He 
 got to bed earlier than usual, and though his first 
 hour was spent in going over the whole weary ground 
 of his conflict once more, his very exhaustion and the 
 crisp spring air in which he had spent so much time 
 came to his rescue, and he slept better even than 
 usual. John was a Sunday school teacher, and as he 
 was passing with his class from the school to the 
 chapel next morning, Robina, the day girl at the 
 farm, called him aside, and told him that Sallie 
 wished him to go down to tea. This was better than 
 he expected, and had the effect of considerably rais- 
 ing his spirits. If only he could get Salhe to see 
 matters as he did all might yet be well. As soon, 
 therefore, as afternoon school was over he started 
 for the farm, and was not too well pleased to discover 
 when he turned into the lane that he was overtaking 
 old Zeph. Somehow John had never liked his future 
 father-in-law; he was a hard sort of man who barely 
 concealed a grasping spirit under a bluff and jocular 
 manner. Report credited him with remorseless bar- 
 gain-driving, and all the Woods for generations back 
 had borne similar characters, and John did not like 
 to feel that the girl he loved had been brought up — 
 and in these times so critical for him — was still living 
 under such influences. 
 
 " What, already!" cried Zeph, as John came up. 
 "Hey, j'oungfolk! young folk!" and he shook his 
 head with waggish depreciation. 
 
 "How's Sallie?" asked John, pulling up and 
 dropping into the old man's step.
 
 SALLIE STILL HOLDS OUT 71 
 
 " Right ! all right ! convrtfescent, as yo' fine talkers 
 say. Hey, John, she's ta'en some rearin' hez that 
 wench! Cost!" and here he pulled up and dropped 
 into a solemn tone, " that slip of a lass has cost me 
 many a hundeerd pound!" 
 
 " And she's worth it," cried John with a burst of 
 sweet, lover-like feeling. " She's worth it all, and a 
 fine sight more, isn't she?" 
 
 They were still standing in the lane, and Zeph 
 followed each word John uttered with a little nod, as 
 though he were counting, and then puckering his 
 brows and pursing out his lips, he stuck out an argu- 
 mentative forefinger, and shaking it at John, he 
 cried — 
 
 " Ay, bud t'question is, shall I ever get it back ? 
 That's t'point." 
 
 John opened his eyes. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Wood, you are getting it back every 
 day, and you will do, I hope, as long as you live." 
 
 This was not quite the answer Zeph had expected, 
 and so with a little wave of the hand to dismiss it, 
 he pointed his finger once more at John, and 
 demanded — 
 
 " What I want to know is this. Would it be right 
 after all t'hedication I've gi'en her, an' all I've spent 
 on her, and t'snug little bit she'll hevwhen I've done 
 wi' it, would it be right for her to throw hersel' 
 away? Now that's t'point." 
 
 Zeph put this query as though he were merely 
 raising a purely hypothetic case, but it was palpable 
 enough to John. It came so unexpectedly that he 
 was taken somewhat by surprise. His heart sank, 
 and he was collecting himself to reply, when the old 
 man, who was evidently very intent on making his 
 point, resumed — 
 
 " I'm her father, am not I ? Isn't it my duty to 
 see as she doesna throw herself away ? "
 
 72 THE MINDER 
 
 John dropped his head upon his chest and uttered 
 a reluctant and husky — 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Zeph's thoughts, like his words, were jerky and 
 disconnected, and so instead of taking up John's 
 reluctant admission, he burst out — 
 
 " Our Sallie's a Wood ! ivvery inch on her! She 
 means to ger on and ger hup i' t'world, an' why 
 shouldn't she?" 
 
 "Mr. Wood," said John slowly," I understand what 
 you mean, and I cannot complain. Sallie said much 
 the same thing herself last night, but she has sent 
 for me, and if it is all the same to you, I prefer to 
 take it from her, if I am to be dismissed." 
 
 " Oh, well ! do as thou likes. Young folks alius is 
 pig-headed. But mind thee, what I thinks Sallie 
 thinks, an' what Sallie thinks I thinks;" and with 
 a gesture of dismissal, the old man fell back and 
 allowed John to proceed on his journe}'. 
 
 The young minder felt sick at heart, and strongly 
 inclined to give up the matter and go home, and 
 perhaps write to Sallie. But he was not a coward, 
 though his courage took the shape of quiet tenacity 
 rather than demonstration, and so, with a desire to 
 see his sweetheart and a dogged Dutch sort of pluck, 
 he preceded Zeph down the lane. 
 
 Sallie herself opened the door when he reached the 
 farm, and her reception at once reassured him. She 
 was tastefully dressed, and the little blush that rose 
 to her cheeks as she greeted him made her look, in 
 his eyes at least, prettier than ever. She did her 
 best, certainly, to make him feel at home, and 
 showed him many little attentions, which touched 
 him the more as he was haunted with the feeling 
 that this might be a sort of valedictory meeting. 
 The tea was co mplimentarily pretentious, and though 
 both the lovers and old Zeph had a little constraint
 
 SALLIE STILL HOLDS OUT 73 
 
 upon them, the meal passed off better than might 
 have been expected. When it was over and old 
 Wood had settled down to a pipe in the chimney 
 corner, Sallie, after carrying the tea-things into the 
 kitchen, strolled towards the parlour on the other 
 side of the house, and, turning her head as she 
 entered, beckoned John to follow her. She was 
 sitting at an old-fashioned piano when he reached 
 the room, and she continued strumming lightly on 
 the keys whilst he wandered awkwardly to a seat 
 near the fire. The chair upon which he sat was 
 almost filled with decorative rather than useful 
 cushions, and Sallie, with a not quite natural little 
 laugh, got up, took one away, made the other com- 
 fortable for him, and then, with a playful little tap 
 on the cheek, bade him sit back and look as if he 
 were at home. 
 
 John sighed and looked at her, and did as he was 
 told, and then she dropped on her knees upon the 
 white imitation skin hearth-rug, and sat looking into 
 the fire with her right shoulder touching his knee. 
 
 John glanced at the bright room and fire, and then 
 down upon the dark hair and delicate pink cheeks, 
 and felt how happy he would have been but for 
 something. He had plenty of that sort of courage 
 which can go straight to an unpleasant subject, and 
 so without waiting he plunged off at once into the 
 question that was between them. Slowly, carefully, 
 and with a seriousness that was almost solemn, he 
 explained his position and convictions, and the 
 nature and absolute necessity for the call to preach. 
 And as he talked she listened attentively, looking 
 steadily into the fire all the time, and nodding now 
 and then in sympathetic comprehension. The fire- 
 light played upon her face and white neck, and made 
 her appear something wonderfully beautiful, so much 
 so in fact that he once or twice lost the thread of his
 
 74 THE MINDER 
 
 argument, and was pulled up and brought back by a 
 quick, inquiring glance from her deep eyes. He was 
 greatly encouraged ; he was evidently making an 
 impression. After all, he had once more been 
 making mountains out of mole-hills, and Sallie 
 was proving to him that she was the true-hearted 
 girl he had always supposed. He warmed, therefore, 
 as he proceeded, and grew almost eloquent for him. 
 In the earnestness of his argument, he had uncon- 
 sciously sat further and further forward, and was now 
 bending slightly over her. She looked so serious 
 and interested that hope was high within him, 
 and in the anticipation of his victory he began to 
 smile. 
 
 Sallie was still gazing musingly into the fire, and 
 apparently weighing his last words ; and just when 
 he began to wonder why she didn't speak, she turned 
 her face quickly towards his, and looking right into 
 his pleading eyes, she cried, arching her brows and 
 speaking in tones of conscious triumph — 
 
 "And that's you that says you can't talk! For 
 shame, John ! " 
 
 And the mingled elation and flattery in her tones 
 only revealed to John how completely he had failed 
 to make any real impression. He was not, however, 
 nearly so disappointed as he ought to have been ; 
 there was something very seductive in his surround- 
 ings, and he found a subtle delight in talking to one 
 who listened with such stimulating interest and inno- 
 cent, unconscious beauty ; and so he commenced 
 again, and still further elaborated his arguments. 
 She listened as earnestl}' as before, and seemed 
 almost anxious to be convinced. She lifted a little 
 sigh when he had done, and looking steadfastly at 
 the fire, she murmured — 
 
 " Oh, John, you're too good ! you are indeed." 
 
 John sighed helplessly; what could he say more?
 
 SALLIE STILL HOLDS OUT 75 
 
 And yet it was only too clear that he had made no 
 real progress. And there he sat looking down in 
 admiration at her, whilst his heart sank within him, 
 and became heavy again. 
 
 And then Sallie took up the tale, and with a sweet 
 reasonableness and insidious speciousness that almost 
 blinded him to its danger, she touched point after 
 point in his arguments until he saw them — he knew 
 not how — disintegrating and crumbhng to pieces 
 before her soft pleas. Then she put her own side 
 of the case, but with the same soft touch and the 
 same subtle flattering deference as before. He grew 
 alarmed and interrupted her. She was wonderfully 
 patient, and seemed pleased to hear him re-state his 
 position, but she talked on, and John grew more and 
 more uneasy. The witchery of the firelight in the 
 gathering twilight, the soft stillness that seemed to 
 pervade the house, and the rise and fall of her 
 coaxing voice had a sort of enchantment in them, 
 and he felt as if he were being snared in some wizard 
 spell or other. He grew afraid of her and the 
 influence she was having over him, and most of all 
 afraid of himself. He tried to say something definite 
 and decisive as gently as he could, but the right 
 words would not come, and he sighed and looked 
 helplessly around. The silence grew long and oppres- 
 sive. Sallie had leaned a little towards him and 
 placed her cheek against his knee, then looking into 
 the fire, and speaking in low, musing tones, she told 
 him how often she had sympathised with him and 
 his mother in their struggles, and in a half vv'hisper 
 slipped out low, apparently unintentional v^'ords of 
 admiration of him, and then in stronger tones 
 expressed her confidence that he would make his 
 way in the world. 
 
 John hastily assured her that if hard work and 
 severe self-sacrifice could do it he would get on, and
 
 76 THE MINDER 
 
 then in impassioned words declared that for her he 
 could do anything. 
 
 And with a long, soft sigh, she answered — 
 
 " Anything but the one thing. Oh ! I should 
 be proud and happy, John, if you would do that 
 for me." 
 
 And John, choking and husky, snatched her hands, 
 and holding them tightly told her that she did not 
 know what she asked, and that he was sure she did 
 not want him to sell his soul. She pulled her hands 
 away in silence and turned from him, and then after 
 a few moments more of painful stillness, got up and 
 went to the piano. He joined her there presently 
 and turned over the music for her, and asked her to 
 sing, and with a pretty resigned and pensive air she 
 obliged. Then they began to talk again, and he 
 attempted to return to the painful subject, but she 
 always evaded it, and grew more and more con- 
 strained as the evening wore on. John, though he 
 scarcely knew what to do, stopped to supper. He 
 was by this time exceedingly uneasy, and looked at 
 Sallie anxiously again and again, but she always 
 turned her eyes away. A flush of relief and hope 
 passed over his heart when, upon his leaving, she 
 came with him as on that first night to the gate. 
 
 " Then you can't do that — a — even for me, John," 
 she said, as they joined hands in parting. 
 
 " Oh, Sallie, I will do anything — anything but 
 that." 
 
 She paused a moment, and then letting slip his 
 clinging fingers she said slowly, but with hardening 
 accent — 
 
 " Then you need not come any more, John ! " 
 And before he could stop her or reply she had 
 retired to the house, and was closing the door 
 behind her.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 
 
 John could not have either said or done anything 
 to stop his sweetheart's flight if his life had depended 
 on it. With open mouth and dropped jaw he 
 watched her vanish absolutely tongue-tied, and then 
 stood staring at the door as though he could not 
 believe his eyes. Salhe's manner during the evening 
 had seemed to indicate that, though she loved him 
 very much, she was not going to give way on a point 
 in which his best interests were so much involved 
 without a struggle, and he confessed to himself that 
 he would never again be so near surrender and 
 escape. But this sudden change astounded him, 
 and made it clear that he could have no hope of 
 winning her so long as he remained a mere mill- 
 hand. She did not, therefore, care for him for his 
 own sake, and his mother's doubts, now made pain- 
 fully clear to him, had at least something to justify 
 them. A chill crept over his heart, and with a last 
 regretful glance at the inexorable door he turned 
 away, and walked slowly down the lane. As he 
 went along he was conscious of a change in his own 
 feelings, a dull, dogged stubbornness rose up within 
 him ; he loved this bewitching girl he told himself 
 again and again, but he knew her better. She was 
 smaller-minded than he had feared, and narrow and 
 earthly ; so far from being able to appreciate his 
 motives she could not even understand them, and
 
 78 THE MINDER 
 
 f 
 
 if she did not and could not be brought to see as 
 he saw there could never be anything in common 
 between them, and, painful though it was to con- 
 template, she had done the very best thing, both for 
 herself and for him. All this and more his reason 
 told him, but his heart still clung to the old hope, 
 and he understood himself well enough to know that 
 it would be useless to try and stifle the feeling all at 
 once ; he must wait and gradually school himself to 
 resignation, but he did not disguise from himself for 
 a moment that the process would be a long and weary 
 one. It was a relief to him, therefore, when he 
 reached home to find round the hearthstone several 
 of the chapel people, kindred spirits of his father's, 
 and he gathered at once from their solemn, half- 
 reproachful looks that his father was holding forth 
 in his own voluble style about his son's stubborn- 
 ness. As he entered Sampson was comparing himself 
 to Isaac deceived in Jacob, and David disappointed 
 in Absalom. He broke down somewhat confusedly 
 on catching sight of his son, and wandered off into 
 vague and mysterious hints about the similarity of his 
 trials to those of the patriarch Job, finishing up with 
 a pathetic and lachrymose picture of himself sitting on 
 some metaphorical dung hill, deserted alike by God 
 and man. So carried away, in fact, was he by this 
 melting picture of his own imaginary sufferings that 
 his voice broke, and tears ran off the end of his nose, 
 whilst the rest of the company sighed again, solemnly 
 wagged their heads, poked the ends of their fingers 
 into the corners of their eyes, and groaned under the 
 influence of this moving discourse. 
 
 John was accustomed to these manifestations, and 
 inwardly despised them ; to-night also he felt they 
 were irritating and even humiliating, and so he beat 
 a hasty retreat and stole off to bed. 
 
 Next day was the Quarterly meeting, the chief official
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 79 
 
 gathering of the circuit, and John had expected to 
 take his seat there for the first time. But recent 
 occurrences had changed all that, and not knowing 
 what rash thing his father or Wilky might do, he 
 went off as soon as tea was over for a long walk, 
 that he might be out of the way if any attempt 
 should be made to force the super.'s hand. He 
 entered the town by the lane leading along the back 
 of the chapel on his return, and was a little alarmed 
 to observe that the band-room was still lighted up, 
 and presumably the meeting was still sitting. He 
 made his way home, therefore, as fast as he could, 
 hoping to get away to rest before his father returned. 
 Just as he was finishing supper, however, in came 
 Sampson and Wilky, wrangling in high tones about 
 something. Ah ! it was the old story, but Wilky 
 was in unusual force, and gradually beat his opponent 
 down, maintaining with all the strength of his strident, 
 raspy voice that the men who preached for nothing 
 were far more valuable and important to the Church 
 than those who were paid. This was in direct and 
 flagrant contradiction to Wilky's usual sentiments, 
 but as nobody ever expected consistency from the 
 little broker John smiled quietly to himself, nodded 
 in token of gratitude to his defender, and stole away 
 upstairs. Well, the matter was settled now, and 
 coilld not be revived again for at least twelve months, 
 and he comforted himself with the reflection that the 
 whole thing would probably be forgotten in that time. 
 He was a little surprised and humbled to discover 
 that, now that the question was disposed of, there 
 was something approaching to disappointment in his 
 mind, and he reflected a little sadly that this was 
 only another evidence of how little we know our- 
 selves, and how necessary it is to be constantly on 
 the alert against the " old Adam." Then of course 
 his mind reverted to the old sorrow, and, recalling
 
 8o THE MINDER 
 
 how recently he had pitied poor Sam Kepple, he 
 reahsed that he was now relegated to the same 
 company of rejected suitors. 
 
 He felt for a moment or two a little bitter, but 
 very soon his love for Sallie extinguished all that, 
 and he found himself wondering at the extreme 
 reasonableness of the course she had adopted, from 
 her standpoint. A fortnight passed away, and though 
 during that period he had met Sallie several times 
 he found that she had returned to her usual manner, 
 and was evidently not too much distressed about 
 what had taken place. Then something happened 
 which, though altogether unconnected with John's 
 troubles, added considerably to them, and had impor- 
 tant and far-reaching results. On the first Sunday 
 in April he was appointed to preach at Trundle- 
 gate, a pretty village about three miles from Bram- 
 well. He had never been "planned" there before, for 
 the village was inhabited by substantial farmers and 
 well-to-do retired tradespeople from the circuit town. 
 The congregation at the ornate little Gothic chapel was 
 therefore highly respectable ; the ministers preached 
 there every other Sunday, and only the best of the 
 local preachers were allowed to occupy the pulpit. 
 John was taking the least important of the services, 
 the afternoon one, and a popular layman from an 
 adjoining circuit was to preach at night. It was a 
 lovely spring day, and John would have enjoyed the 
 walk but for his nervous apprehensions. He got 
 through his work, however, fairly well, he admitted, 
 for him, but was not particularly reassured when 
 he was invited to take tea with old Mr. Pashley, who 
 was a comparatively rich man, and lived in the most 
 pretentious house in the place. Pashley was an 
 old-fashioned Methodist, who thought it a most 
 improper thing to puff up young preachers, and so, 
 to John's relief, he made not even the most distant
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 8i 
 
 allusion to the sermon. Mrs. Pashley, a much 
 younger person, had, however, no such scruples, but 
 paid John so many kindly little compliments that he 
 became fearful lest her kindness should trench upon 
 veracity. 
 
 The old gentleman did not, however, seem very 
 disturbed about his wife's politeness, but detained 
 John as long as he could after tea, and then, the 
 day being so very inviting, he offered to walk a little 
 on the way with him. They had turned out of the 
 village street into the lane, and Pashley had already 
 paused to take leave, when lifting his eyes and looking 
 down the road, he said — 
 
 "Who's this coming? It looks like a preacher; I 
 hope Mr. Craven is not sending a substitute again." 
 
 John raised his eyes and examined the approaching 
 figure. The man looked rather too grand for an 
 ordinary local preacher, and John was just turning 
 to reassure his host when something about the 
 stranger's gait attracted his notice, and darting a 
 quick glance backward, he said — 
 
 "Why, it's Mr. Ferridge ! " 
 
 " Ferridge ? He who was put off the plan last 
 harvest ? " 
 
 " I think so — yes," replied John. " It is he, cer- 
 tainly. I daresay he is coming to hear Mr. Craven. 
 They used to be old friends, you know." 
 
 The old gentleman made a sudden start forward, 
 and taking John's arm and beginning to walk rapidly 
 forward, he cried — 
 
 " Go on ! I must let him get past. I wouldn't 
 walk down the village with him for anything." 
 
 But the approaching man had seen them, and 
 was already waving a stylish umbrella by way of 
 salutation. 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear ! What shall I do ? I'm sick 
 with shame." 
 
 M. G
 
 82 THE MINDER 
 
 And the agitated old gentleman put a hand that 
 was shaking with indignation and fear upon John's 
 arm, and went on — 
 
 " Don't leave me, whatever you do." 
 
 The man they were meeting was tall and burly. 
 He was dressed in a new suit of shiny black, with a 
 large open shirt front upon which gleamed a big star- 
 shaped stud, whilst a loud, thick gold chain stretched 
 from his vest pocket to his button-hole, and from 
 that to the opposite pocket. A glossy new silk hat 
 was tipped a little back on his head, exposing a 
 perspiring forehead and hot, red, somewhat bloated 
 face. He had gloves, also, of painful newness, on 
 his fleshy hands, and whilst still some yards away he 
 began to speak. 
 
 " Well, I never ! My old friend Pashley ! This 
 is nice. How are you, my dear brother ; how 
 are you ? " and entirely ignoring John, he seized 
 Pashley' s hand and began to shake it with eager 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " And how's Mrs. Pashley, sir ? Well ? I'm 
 delighted to hear it. Take care of her, my friend ; 
 such people as her are scarce." 
 
 He still held Pashley's limp and reluctant hand, 
 and thrust his face close to the old man's in appa- 
 rently eager interest in the old gentleman's affairs. 
 
 " We're both pretty well, thank you, Mr. Ferridge," 
 said Pashley, with nervous restraint. "I'm walking 
 along the road with our young friend here. Good- 
 day." 
 
 And he began to push John before him. 
 
 "Ah, good! " cried Ferridge with a forced hearti- 
 ness, and taking out his watch he continued, " Yes, 
 there's plenty of time. I'll go along with you, and 
 then we can return together. The service is still at 
 the old time, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, have you come over to the service ? I heard
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 83 
 
 yesterday that Mr. Craven was not well ; he may be 
 sending a substitute " 
 
 " Yes, he's sending me. He wrote on Friday. 
 Poor fellow, he's been in bed a week. What a 
 lovely afternoon it is! Ah, I always say there's no 
 place like Trundlegate in spring time." 
 
 John began to fear there was going to be a scene, 
 for Pashley was evidently much excited, though he 
 tried hard to conceal it, and so he dropped the old 
 man's arm and was preparing to move off when his 
 host snatched at it hastily, and turning to Ferridge 
 he cried, in scandalised tones — 
 
 " But you are not going to preach, Mr. Ferridge ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, sir ; certainly. Brother Craven wrote 
 asking me. We've helped each other many a time. 
 It's all right, sir." 
 
 Pashley was pinching John's arm until he 
 winced. 
 
 " But, Mr. Ferridge, you cannot preach after — 
 after what has happened ! " 
 
 " Happened ! Oh, ay ! But that's six months 
 since, you know, and I'm a new man. I certainly 
 was a little overtaken, but I've passed through the 
 fire, brother, and I'm all right now." 
 
 Pashley looked at the canting, fleshy face before 
 him, and tightening his grip on John's arm, whilst his 
 venerable face grew stern and white, he said — 
 
 " But you cannot preach at Trundlegate to-night, 
 sir." 
 
 " Mr. Pashley ! Mr. Pashley ! Have you become 
 a hard-hearted Pharisee ? What did the dear 
 Lord do to Peter and Thomas when they made 
 their little slips ? I didn't expect it from you, 
 sir. I never thought my old friend Pashley would 
 cast the first stone," and in cleverly simulated 
 emotion he turned his face away and buried it in 
 a gorgeously-flowered pocket-handkerchief, and 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE MINDER 
 
 sniffed and snuffled as though struggHng with 
 tears, 
 
 John felt touched for the moment, and noticing 
 that Pashley seemed similarly affected he said, with a 
 view to helping Ferridge — 
 
 " If the super, has consented, you know, Mr. 
 Pashley " 
 
 Ferridge turned sharply towards John with an 
 angry gesture, but another thought striking him, he 
 changed his manner. 
 
 " Exactly ; that's it, you know. Leave these 
 things to the super., Brother Pashley." 
 
 " But does the super, know you have come here ? " 
 asked the old gentleman, with returning alarm and 
 not a little indignation. 
 
 " I saw him only yesterday, sir. Ah, he's been a 
 true friend to me in my — a-a-a-affliction." 
 
 Pashley, puzzled and grieved, was evidently in- 
 clined to give way, but it had struck John that 
 Fei ridge's last words were vague, and that his host 
 was being deceived, and so he said quietly — 
 
 " Does the super, know you are taking this service, 
 Mr. Ferridge ? " 
 
 Ferridge jumped round with a snarl that amply 
 justified John's suspicions, and shouted — 
 
 " Don't I tell you that I saw him yesterday ? " 
 
 Pashley was carefully scrutinising Ferridge's face 
 and manner, and it was evident that he was more 
 suspicious and alarmed than ever. Perceiving this, 
 and indignant that the old man should be subject to 
 this excitement, and absolutely certain now as to the 
 truth of the matter, John said, looking steadily and 
 fearlessly into Ferridge's flaming face — 
 
 " Mr. Ferridge, have you told the super, that Mr. 
 Craven has asked you to take this appointment, and 
 has he given his consent ? " 
 
 Ferridge's face was almost livid.
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 85 
 
 " What's that to you, cock-chin ? I'm responsible 
 to the super, and not to factory lads ! " 
 
 " Mr. Ferridge," broke in Pashley, " let me beg 
 you to return. I'm sure that Mr. Craven cannot 
 have known that you are not now on the plan. This 
 young man will take the service." 
 
 John gave a little start and an exclamation. It 
 was no joke to be called upon to preach at a few 
 moments' notice, but before he could speak Ferridge 
 burst out — 
 
 " Will he ! Don't get your rag out, Mr. Pashley ! 
 I've come to take this service, and I shall do, for you, 
 or anybody else ! " and he turned away with the 
 evident intention of making for the village. 
 
 " Oh, man, you'll not ! — you'll not desecrate " 
 
 "Won't I? I'll show you!" and with a rude 
 push which sent the old man staggering into the 
 hedge he started towards Trundlegate. 
 
 But for the moment he had overlooked John, 
 who, when Pashley gave a shocked cry, sprang 
 forward and planted himself on the narrow flags in 
 front of the bully. 
 
 " Mr. Ferridge," he cried, with quiet but unmis- 
 takable decision, "you will not enter that pulpit 
 to-night." 
 
 " Let him go ! let him go ! " cried Pashley, now 
 thoroughly scared, but John stood his ground. 
 
 " Out of the way ! " shouted Ferridge, who had 
 now lost all self-control, and as he sprang forward 
 he raised his clenched fist, and would doubtless have 
 felled the young minder. But he did not flinch, and 
 as he still looked steadily into the gray-green blazing 
 eyes of his opponent, the uplifted hand fell harm- 
 lessly to his side, and with an afterthought and a 
 sudden chuckle, half scorn and half triumph, he 
 sprang from the high-banked footpath and dashed 
 past his resister.
 
 86 THE MINDER 
 
 " Let him go ! God will judge him ! " cried Pashley, 
 now in a state of pathetic fear ; but John's blood was 
 up. A man like that to get into a pulpit, and no 
 voice to be raised in protest ! The thing was not to 
 be thought of for a moment. And so, disregarding 
 his frightened and now horrified companion, he 
 turned on his heels and darted off after the trans- 
 gressor. Hearing his footsteps, Ferridge looked 
 round, and perceiving instantly that John was 
 intent on passing him and reaching the chapel 
 before him, he darted sideways, and spreading out 
 his great arms to stop him, bellowed out all sorts of 
 coarse threats. But though he was big and strong, 
 he was also heavy, and the young preacher easily 
 dodged past him, and for some yards there was seen 
 on that quiet spring evening the strange spectacle of 
 tw'o men racing for the possession of one pulpit. It 
 did not last long, however, for, after running about 
 eighty yards, the heavier man pulled up, and began 
 wiping the perspiration from his face, bawling all 
 sorts of coarse epithets after his opponent. 
 
 When John reached the chapel, panting and out 
 of breath, the caretaker, a woman, was just unlocking 
 the doors. In a few breathless words he explained 
 what had happened and who was coming. To his 
 perplexity, she stared blankly at him for a moment 
 or two, and then, dropping a red handkerchief con- 
 taining a gorgeously-bound book, precipitously fled. 
 By this time Ferridge had entered the village, 
 and was approaching. John's blood boiled within 
 him ; this blatant, coarse-minded fellow should not 
 preach there that night whatever happened ; and so, 
 on sudden thought, he dashed into the chapel, closed 
 and locked the door, and then setting his heels in 
 a crevice of the tiled floor and his back against the 
 door, he prepared to resist any attempt to enter by 
 force.
 
 A RACE FOR A PULPIT 87 
 
 But the door was a two-leaved one, and John had 
 forgotten that there was a bolt at the top as well at 
 the bottom, and just as he realised his mistake, the 
 form of the burly Ferridge was flung against the out- 
 side, and the young minder with a gasp felt that he 
 was being overmatched. With all the strength he 
 possessed, however, he pushed, and the door went 
 back into its place, and then bent inwards upon him 
 again. For a minute or two the discreditable struggle 
 was continued, and then it ceased suddenly, as though 
 Ferridge had given up. It was only for an instant, 
 however, for before John had properly realised what 
 was happening, the man outside, now perfectly wild 
 with rage, flung himself against the doors and sent 
 John flying into the aisle. Just at this point, when 
 victory seemed to be within the grasp of the big man, 
 other voices were heard, and when John rose to his 
 feet he discovered that the chapel-keeper had thought 
 of something he had forgotten, and had fetched the 
 constable, who, as it happened, was a Methodist. 
 The presence of the representative of the law cooled 
 the big man suddenly, and as the worshippers now 
 began to gather, he deemed it prudent to beat a 
 retreat. Then old Pashley turned up, still very 
 much alarmed, and when he had told his tale John 
 was soon surrounded by a knot of grateful admirers, 
 who greatly commended his conduct. They insisted 
 of course that he should occupy the vacant pulpit, 
 but he was so agitated that he doubted whether he 
 could sufficiently collect his thoughts. Bynton, the 
 leader, offered to open the service for him, and by 
 the time that had been done John had obtained 
 some sort of command of himself, and did his best. 
 The chapel filled as the service proceeded, curiosity 
 evidently bringing many unwonted hearers, and John 
 had the largest congregation that had been seen in 
 the building since the last anniversary. The delighted
 
 88 THE MINDER 
 
 officials made much of the preacher when he had 
 done, and thanked him heartily, as well for his ser- 
 mons as his valiant defence of the pulpit, and it was 
 somewhat late when he got away. Alone now for 
 the first time, he began to run over all the disagree- 
 able circumstances of the evening, and realised that 
 he had probably made an enemy. He saw no reason, 
 all the same, to regret what he had done, though 
 he would have preferred that some older and 
 more important individual should have had the 
 onus of it. It was always the easiest of all things 
 to find some reason for self-reproach, and he was just 
 sighing a little regretfully over the matter, when he 
 thought he heard a single footstep behind him, as of 
 some person walking on the grassy edge of the foot- 
 path, who had unintentionally stepped upon the flags 
 for once. He v^'as nervous, and did not look round 
 for the moment, but when he did so there was no 
 one to be seen. A little later he thought he caught 
 the step again, and a little nearer, and turned at once, 
 but nothing was to be seen. Then he smiled at his 
 own nervousness, but quickened his pace, and had 
 already reached the turn where the Bramwell lights 
 could be seen when there came behind him a sudden 
 rush and then a crash, and he staggered fonvard into 
 the gutter and all was blank.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 
 
 Sampson Ledger opened the paint shop on the 
 morning after the events narrated in the last chapter 
 in an absent, preoccupied, but solemnly uplifted frame 
 of mind. It was ten o'clock before he reached the 
 premises, and nearly half-past before he deigned to 
 take down the shutters. He was, of course, greatly 
 distressed at what had overtaken his son ; but no 
 less than seven of the principal people of the chapel 
 had sent to the little cake shop in Shed Lane to 
 make inquiries, and he had been stopped at least 
 half-a-dozen times on his way to business to give 
 particulars of the shocking occurrence ; conse- 
 quently, though he wore the manner of one who 
 was suffering under some grievous visitation, yet 
 underneath it all was the supporting consciousness 
 that he and his family were, temporarily at any 
 rate, the objects of most flattering sympathy. He 
 was not the principal sufferer perhaps, but mental 
 pain is after all the most acute and terrible, and he 
 lost sight somewhat of his son's condition as he dwelt 
 in keen self-pity on his feelings as a father, and the 
 harrowing effects of those emotions on his spirits. 
 It would have been disrespectful to his son, a sort 
 of sacrilege, in fact, to have given any attention to 
 mundane matters under present painful circum- 
 stances, and so he opened the shop with a resigned, 
 almost stoical aspect, and immediately settled
 
 go THE MINDER 
 
 himself on the log near the newly-lighted stove and 
 commenced to smoke. There was an air of mystery 
 about the matter that greatly inflated his self-con- 
 sciousness, and he shook his head with solemn 
 deliberateness, and fetched long, appealing sighs. 
 
 John, rendered unconscious by the blow he had 
 received, must have lain by the side of the footpath 
 for some time, for it was after nine o'cloik when he 
 was discovered by a pair of lovers. With the aid of 
 the post gig, which passed along whilst they were 
 trying to bring him round, they had got him home, 
 and the doctor, when summoned, had declared that 
 it was a very serious wound, which could not have 
 been caused by a fall. And there the matter rested. 
 Why had John not returned earlier ? and what had 
 taken place to bring about this brutal assault ? And, 
 most perplexing of all, who was the mysterious 
 assailant ? 
 
 Old Zeph strolled into the shop as Sampson 
 lighted his pipe, but as the two had met before 
 that morning, he simply wandered to his seat on 
 the side bench and sat down, accompanying his 
 actions with the remark — 
 
 " Well, this is a licker, this is ! " 
 
 " Many are the afflictions of the righteous," moaned 
 Sampson, with solemn shakings of the head. 
 
 " It might 'a' killed him, a clout like that," said 
 Zeph, glancing round as the little broker waddled 
 into the shop. 
 
 "Joseph is not! Simeon is not! and now 3'e'll 
 take Benjamin also," whined the painter with a 
 wheezy snuffle and an excited blinking of the eyes, and 
 then he went on, " O Absalom ! my son, my son ! " 
 
 It was doubtless the pathos of these quotations 
 that commended them to Sampson rather than their 
 relevancy, but it was the striking inappropriate- 
 ness of them, and the fact that the latter of them
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 91 
 
 contained an implied reflection on John that struck 
 the dwarf, and so firing up, partly out of contempt for 
 a sorrow in which he did not altogether believe, and 
 partly out of natural contradictiousness and a sense 
 of the necessity of defending John, he rapped out — 
 
 ** Bosh ! blather ! t' boot's on t' other leg, by jings." 
 
 Sampson took a long breath, and then with a 
 pulpit flourish of the hand and a weary wag of the 
 head, he cried — 
 
 " Rail on, Eliphaz ! rail, you — you other Job's 
 comforters. I must take up my cross ! None but a 
 father knows a father's feelings." 
 
 This kind of lachrymose nonsense was the most 
 irritating of all things to Wilky, and he was just 
 about to make a scathing reply when Zeph chimed in. 
 
 " Come ! come, lad ! He'll be all right in a day 
 or two." 
 
 " He will, if he's owt like his father," cried Wilky, 
 savagely. " It 'ud take a steam hammer to do any 
 damage to his skull." 
 
 " Friends ! " cried the painter solemnly, " you don't 
 know ! If you did you'd have some feelin', but you 
 don't know all, you don't know all." 
 
 There was evidently something behind this doleful 
 whine, and Zeph lifted his head inquiringly, whilst 
 Wilky, taking his pipe out of his mouth and holding 
 it in a waiting attitude, demanded snarlingly — 
 
 " Wot don't we know ? " 
 
 " It's not the blow as t' doctor's feared on, it's 
 summat worse ! summat w-o-r-s-e ! " 
 
 The men on the bench exchanged glances, and a 
 look of impending penitence came upon Wilky's 
 scowling face. He was not going to admit anything, 
 however, too hastily, and so he demanded shortly — 
 
 " Wot is it, then ? What's t' owd jolloper say ? " 
 
 Sampson looked as though he were not going to 
 reply, but covetous of his full meed of pity, and
 
 92 THE MINDER 
 
 proud of having acquired a brand-new scientific term, 
 he leaned forward suddenh', tapped the broker's foot, 
 which projected from the bench on the level of the 
 ordinary man's knee, and dropping into a tragic 
 whisper, he said — 
 
 " It's mental gitis." 
 
 The painter was perfectly satisfied with the effect 
 of his announcement upon his friends ; they had 
 never, either of them, heard of the disease, at any 
 rate under this staggering name, and were therefore 
 duly impressed, for to have been sceptical of a man's 
 need of sympathy when his son was in danger of 
 disease with such an awful title, and which they 
 both concluded was some new and terrible form of 
 insanity, would have seemed hard-hearted indeed, 
 and Wilky was just asking in a much softer tone what 
 " gitis " meant, when the super, appeared in the door- 
 way. Instead, however, of saluting them, he carefully 
 closed the door, which was usually left open for Wilky's 
 convenience, and then stepped up to the debaters. 
 
 It was evident at once that there was something 
 in the wind, and the friends looked first at him and 
 then at each other. 
 
 "Well, Brother Ledger, I've got to the bottom of 
 it. Ah, it's a bad business — the scoundrel ! " 
 
 *' Sir, my John a scoundrel ! " cried Sampson, ready 
 for another bath of the martyr spirit, but the super, 
 broke in upon him — 
 
 " No, no ! John's a hero; he's a brick, poor lad. 
 He's got this by standing up for the cause, but let 
 me tell you " — and then he plunged off into the whole 
 story. Old Pashley had come in from Trundlegate 
 to report on Ferridge's outrageous conduct entirely 
 ignorant of what had happened to John. The super, 
 had put the two things together instantly, and when 
 he told his visitor the sad sequel he was white with 
 sorrow and indignation. Pashley was for going to
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 93 
 
 the police station at once, but the super., who was a 
 great believer in the virtues of second thoughts, asked 
 him to wait a while. But Pashley had insisted, and 
 they had seen the superintendent of police, who, 
 whilst he agreed with them that there was only one 
 conclusion to be drawn, asked them to leave the 
 matter in his hands, as, of course, nothing could be 
 done without direct evidence of the assault. This, 
 and much more, the minister told the amazed and 
 outraged friends, but whilst begging them to keep 
 eyes and ears open, he cautioned them against circu- 
 lating the information until the required proofs should 
 be obtained. 
 
 Sampson was now most genuinely distressed ; but 
 as the little broker watched him, he was not quite 
 satisfied ; there was something in the haggard look 
 and frightened eyes that excited his most uneasy 
 suspicions. But everything else was forgotten in the 
 presence of this dastardly outrage. Before the super, 
 had got halfway through his tale Wilky had shuffled 
 off the bench and was walking backwards and for- 
 wards, stamping his puny feet and threatening 
 direst consequences to the "wastril" Ferridge. He 
 stretched up his four feet something, and shook his 
 fat little fist and vowed he would break every bone 
 in the mighty Ferridge's body ; he would horsewhip 
 him, he would shoot him dead as a herring, and finally, 
 he would spend his last shilling in " lawing " him. 
 
 " Mr. Drax, there's somebody wants you," cried a 
 little girl, cautiously opening the door just as Wilky 
 reached the climax of his threats, but the enraged 
 broker chased her away with a roar, and banging 
 the door and returning, poured out a fresh volley of 
 denunciations of John's enemy. As he talked he 
 glanced now and then at Sampson, but that worthy 
 still preserved a most unusual and ominous silence, 
 and avoided the other's eye.
 
 94 THE MINDER 
 
 The super, listened a little absently to Wilky's 
 tirade, and was moving towards the door, when it 
 was opened by a stranger, who, putting his head 
 inside and dodging it first to one side and then to 
 the other in a vain effort to see past the minister, 
 called out — 
 
 " Is Wilky here ? Now then, what do you want 
 for yond' owd rocking-chair? " 
 
 "Old! old!" cried Wilky, whisking round and 
 bristling all over with pugnacity. " It 'ull be a fine 
 sight older afoor thou gets it, man. It's hantique ! 
 hantique hoak, stupid." 
 
 " What's t' price ? " demanded the customer, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " T' price ? " and Wilky threw his great head 
 back with a sarcastic laugh. " T' price is sixpence 
 hawpenny an' a set of mahogany drawers thrown in, 
 that's about thy figure, isn't it ? " 
 
 " How will ten shillin' do ? " and with a patience 
 born of much experience the buyer held the 
 door in his hand and waited for Wilky's return to 
 reasonableness. 
 
 "Ten shillin'!" and Wilky looked unutterably 
 indignant, but all the same he strolled leisurely 
 towards the door and followed his customer across 
 the street, snarling and sniffing as he went. 
 
 The bargain, however, was soon struck, and the 
 little broker started to return to the paint shop ; but 
 as he noticed that the super, was leaving, he stopped 
 in the middle of the road, surveyed meditatively 
 his own place of business, turned slowly back and 
 glanced over the various articles in front of his shop 
 with a sort of weary contempt. Then he entered the 
 shop itself; it was crammed from floor to ceiling 
 with new and second-hand goods, the only signs of 
 orderly arrangement being in the neighbourhood of 
 the window. Glancing still more discontentedly at
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 95 
 
 the inside stock, he passed on and entered the back 
 room. This was smaller than the other by the 
 width of a staircase, but was in the same disorderly 
 and overcrowded condition, and it was not without 
 difficulty that he wriggled his way to an oversized 
 armchair upholstered in an undecipherable pattern 
 of print. A pouch-like box hung on the outside 
 arm of the chair, and it was full of old newspapers, 
 letters. Circuit and prayer-leaders' plans, a choice 
 selection of pipes in various stages of blackness and 
 disrepair, half-used packets of tobacco, and a hetero- 
 geneous collection of indescribable odds and ends. A 
 fire, half-choked with ashes, was maintaining a sulky 
 sort of struggle in the grate, and the mantelpiece, 
 besides a bewildering variety of odds and ends of 
 ornaments, supported three mirrors, leaning one 
 against the other. Wilky kicked a footstool which had 
 a spittoon let into the top of it towards the chair, and 
 hastily mounting to the seat settled down with his pipe. 
 
 From where he sat he could see his own face and 
 head in the far corner of the front mirror, and as 
 he turned his thoughts about in his mind he glanced 
 at the reflection of himself in the dusty glass, much 
 as a man looks at a friend with whom he is holding a 
 conversation. 
 
 Wilky's face was puckered in serious cogitation and 
 the smoke came through his lips in short rapid puffs. 
 At last he raised his eyes, and looking at the mirror, 
 shook his head like a person who is having foisted 
 upon him an insufficient explanation, and jerked out — 
 
 " I don't like it, Wilkinson, I don't." 
 
 Then he puffed away furiously at his pipe with 
 renewed glances at the mirror, and presently leaning 
 forward and scowling at himself in the glass, he 
 demanded fiercely — 
 
 " Ferridge is a club collector an' rent an' debt 
 collector an' money lender, isn't he ? "
 
 96 THE MINDER 
 
 The Wilky in the mirror must have made some 
 sort of reluctant but inaudible concession, for after 
 a moment's pause the Wilky in the chair leaned 
 forward and went on — 
 
 " An' yond' owd muddle-head's alius up to t' 
 eyes i' money messes, isn't he ? " 
 
 The significant glare with which the broker in the 
 chair transfixed the broker in the glass ought to have 
 driven comprehension even into quicksilver, but as 
 there was still some evidence of doubt on the point, 
 Wilky, with a snarl of impatience, went on — 
 
 " Well, what did he say ? What did he look like 
 when Ferridge w^as mentioned?" 
 
 The obtuse man in the mirror was seemingly not 
 even yet quite convinced, but to Wilky it appeared 
 so perfectly clear, that he dropped back into his 
 chair with a sigh. 
 
 " It's there, Wilky, it's there, lad ! and that rap- 
 scallion 'ull slip through our fingers." And then, 
 as the thought seemed to cut him to the quick, he 
 kicked the footstool away and sprang to his feet. 
 "Will he? confound him! I'll show him ! I'll show 
 him, if I swing for it." 
 
 But at this moment there was a cr}' of " Paper!" 
 in the shop. Wilky, still boiling with indignation, 
 toddled into the front place, picked up the copy of 
 the Bramwell Mercury, and was soon ensconced in 
 his chair again, and reading with wrathful maledic- 
 tions an account of a " dastardly outrage on a local 
 preacher." 
 
 There was nothing else in the paper that interested 
 him, and so after reading the half column for a second 
 time, he let the paper drop upon his knees and was 
 soon in a brown study. A few minutes later he was 
 roused from his reverie by a summons into the shop, 
 and after a characteristic wrangle with a woman who 
 thought she knew what sort of furniture paste she
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 97 
 
 wanted, he suddenly popped the article he was offer- 
 ing back upon the shelf, and turning his back upon 
 the customer, left her standing in the shop. He fell 
 back so deep into his chair that his diminutive legs 
 stuck straight out like railway signal arms. He 
 remained in this condition until another idea came, 
 and he got down upon the floor again. He stood 
 staring broodingly into the fire for a little while, and 
 then laid his pipe carefully down, brushed the tobacco 
 ashes from his waistcoat, looked himself over from 
 head to foot, and finished by dolefully scrutinising 
 his hands. Then he stood upon the stool to get the 
 full benefit of the mirror, pulled the knot of his dingy 
 scarf back into its place, took his hat off, and hastily 
 smoothed down his still abundant hair, picked up the 
 paper, and assuming an amiable and even affectionate 
 expression that made his pugnacious face look almost 
 handsome, he stepped to the staircase, toiled softly 
 and painfully up, and just as he reached the top, 
 commenced in the tenderest of tones — 
 
 " Well, how's my little love this morning?" 
 The little love turned out to be a woman, tall 
 beyond the wont of women, but so finely propor- 
 tioned that her height was not particularly noticeable. 
 She had an abundance of wavy brown hair, a broad 
 white forehead, soft violet eyes, and a complexion so 
 delicately pink and white as to suggest, along with 
 the puffy flesh of her fingers, the invalid. She 
 was reclining on a low wide couch, and wore a rather 
 faded, but neatly fitting, blue dressing-gown of some 
 soft material. The room, which was large and airy, 
 though rather low, was almost luxuriously furnished, 
 and gave evidence everywhere of a refinement rather 
 unexpected under the roof of the little broker. Mrs. 
 Drax was suffering from some obscure and chronic 
 spinal complaint, which kept her in her room for 
 months together, but the smooth, unwrinkled face, 
 M. H
 
 98 THE MINDER 
 
 the baby dimples, and the gentle, pensive expression 
 gave little indication of suffering, and none at all of 
 complaint. Everybody had marvelled when this 
 handsome popular woman married the cross-grained 
 and misshapen little broker, and put it down to 
 woman's incomprehensible whim ; and nobody, not 
 even the smiling bride herself, knew that Wilky, her 
 father's executor, had sacrificed all his little savings 
 to cover her father's name from dishonour when he 
 died and left nothing but debts ; and the staggering 
 stock of new goods which the little broker crowded 
 into his shop immediately after his marriage was 
 taken, as he intended it should be, as an indication 
 that her money had set him up. That this ill-assorted 
 couple loved each other passionately was evident the 
 moment Wilky entered the room. There was a wel- 
 coming smile on the invalid's face, and the crusty 
 husband looked almost ridiculous with his lover-like 
 smirks and grins. It is not for us to pry too closely 
 into the little billings and cooings of this couple of 
 everlasting lovers; suffice it to say, that in a few 
 moments Wilky brought gravity into the fair face on 
 the sofa as he cautiously broke the news of John's 
 misfortune. She was secretly one of John's cham- 
 pions, and had kept her husband from disliking the 
 shy, reserved lad she did not understand. Presently 
 Wilky squatted down on a hassock by the side of the 
 couch, and carefull}- unfolding the paper, read in an 
 emphatic, official sort of tone the paragraph relating 
 to the outrage. There was a tear of soft sympathy in 
 Mrs. Drax's eye when her husband had finished, but 
 when he noticed it he crushed the paper between his 
 hand, and flinging it away from him, burst out with a 
 return to his old manner — 
 
 " Now then, silly old stupid, I'll never tell you 
 anything again. Look at me, I don't go snivelling 
 about every little thing," and in confirmation of this
 
 HOW WILKY BECAME A CONSPIRATOR 99 
 
 statement the little man, whose voice had already 
 broken suspiciously, walked to the front window and 
 demonstratively blew his nose. And whilst Wilky 
 was trying to convince himself that his quick sym- 
 pathy with his wife's pitifulness had not compromised 
 his manhood, she was leaning back upon the couch 
 meditating. 
 
 " Wilky," she said at last, "come here, my man." 
 
 With reluctant, aggrieved look on his face, as 
 though he already guessed what she was going to 
 say, he drew near the sofa, and resumed his place on 
 the hassock. Mrs. Drax looked musingly at him for 
 a moment, and then softly stroking his hair, she 
 said — 
 
 " Can't we help them, Wilky?" 
 
 " Us? How can we? The old chap's a muddler, 
 goes staring at t' stars and tumbling in t' gutter ; an' 
 t' others is as proud as pouters." 
 
 "John is a good lad, Wilky." 
 
 " Ay, good for gettin' into hobbles an' making silly 
 women cry." 
 
 Mrs. Drax waited a little, and toyed with a stray 
 tag of her husband's hair, and then she said, gently — 
 
 " I know somebody who would have cried — she — 
 she — she — thought the world of poor John." 
 
 Wilky made an exclamation, and his face grew 
 suddenly pathetic, whilst he shot a frightened sort of 
 look at a large photo in an elaborate frame which 
 stood on the table, at the head of the sofa. It was 
 the picture of their only child, who had been dead 
 some time, and who had been John's child sweetheart. 
 
 Wilky was not equal to contending with such 
 pleas and such a pleader, and so he gave an inarticu- 
 late grunt, and catching the sound of knocking down- 
 stairs, he made haste to escape, and when he had 
 disposed of the customer he did not return, but took 
 refuge in his arm-chair, and charged his pipe. For 
 
 H 2
 
 loo THE MINDER 
 
 some minutes he sat in abstracted silence, then 
 he began to intersperse his puffs with surly grunts 
 and little "Tchats!" and " Boshes !" mingled with 
 sarcastic little laughs. Then he grew silent, and 
 began to rub the stem of his pipe in his hair. This 
 action was followed by a fit of open-eyed astonish- 
 ment, and a great self-satisfied grin spread itself over 
 his face. He followed this up by leaning back in his 
 chair and treating himself to a series of triumphant 
 chuckles, and at last he got up, winked wickedly at 
 himself in the mirror, and waddled off to his old 
 rendezvous at the paint shop.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "and some have greatness thrust upon them" 
 
 The next day or two brought little or no light on 
 the mysterious attack which had been made upon 
 young Ledger. The superintendent of police reported 
 after careful search that he could find no clue as to 
 the offender. Pashley had openly charged Ferridge 
 with the assault, and had been ordered off the 
 premises, and on Wednesday it was known that the 
 suspected man had left the town, but had been in- 
 sulted and hustled by indignant townspeople at the 
 station. John had by this time recovered conscious- 
 ness, but could give no information, and protested as 
 energetically as he was able against any action being 
 taken against a man they only suspected. 
 
 On Thursday Wilky was thrown into a state of 
 excitement by the receipt of a lawyer's letter charging 
 him with slandering "our client Mr. T. Ferridge," 
 and threatening legal proceedings. It was a sight to 
 see the little broker. He kicked his favourite foot- 
 stool as far as the crowded condition of the little 
 back room would allow ; he strutted before the fire 
 and threatened Ferridge and his " swindling lawyer " 
 with "Court of Queen's Bench" and every other 
 legal bogie he could think of. For timidly inquiring 
 if he would have some more coffee (he received the 
 missive during breakfast) he rushed at Julia Ann, the 
 little rough, cross-eyed servant, and drove her in 
 terror into the kitchen, and then strode across the
 
 I02 THE MINDER 
 
 road and poured out the vials of his wrath on the 
 melancholy Sampson. It was well into the forenoon 
 before he was calm enough to venture into his wife's 
 presence, and when he had told her his tale she 
 reminded him that the money he proposed to spend 
 in fighting the case would be needed for a little 
 project they had hatched together, and on the 
 accomplishment of which she had set her heart. 
 Wilky allowed himself to be persuaded, of course, 
 but that did not prevent him denouncing Ferridge 
 whenever he had the opportunity, and hinting 
 with darkened face at mysterious but exemplary 
 vengeance. 
 
 A week passed away, and John began to show 
 decided signs of recovery, but even then could add 
 nothing to what was already known about the causes 
 of his sufferings, and protested, in a way that dis- 
 gusted Wilky, that it was not right to condemn any 
 man on mere suspicion. The fact was, John was 
 already occupied with domestic anxieties that put 
 himself and his calamities out of his mind. Sallie 
 had shown him just such attentions as were neigh- 
 bourly, and no more, and though she called several 
 times she always contrived to keep his mother in 
 conversation, and went away leaving him disap- 
 pointed and perplexed. And then the mill went on 
 short time, and was only running four days a week, 
 which meant that his wages when he returned to 
 work would be little more than they had been before 
 his promotion, and the old struggle with povert}' 
 would have to be renewed. 
 
 Whilst John and his people were occupied with 
 these anxieties Wilky had concerns of his own, 
 which evidently took up much of his time and 
 thought. He was known to have a strong prejudice 
 against medical men, but for some inscrutable reason 
 or other he suddenly struck up a violent friendship
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 103 
 
 with old Deevers the doctor, who had attended 
 John, and one day the medico greatly surprised the 
 Ledgers and increased their distress by announcing 
 that John must on no account go back to the mill at 
 present, but that, for some months at least, he must 
 have light outdoor occupation, which would not be 
 too great a strain upon his constitution. 
 
 Sampson's face was long and woeful when he 
 reported these things to Wilky, but it grew positively 
 frightful as the little broker confirmed the medical 
 verdict, and declared he could have told them that 
 John was sickening months before the assault. 
 
 " Many are the afflictions of the righteous," sighed 
 Sampson, rolling his eyes upward. 
 
 " It's more nor we can say for their brains," 
 snapped Wilky. " Some folks goes whining about 
 taking up their cross when they ought to be walloped 
 wi' it ! Resignation ! " he broke in, as Sampson 
 sighed out the word. " Resignation be blowed ! It's 
 common sense as we want. There's lots o' folk 
 resignated into their graves wi' their do-less 
 relations." 
 
 It was quite a different tune, however, which he 
 sang to John's mother. He usually treated that 
 suffering soul much as he treated his own wife, and 
 when, after two fruitless visits, he found her alone, 
 he affected both surprise and delight at the infor- 
 mation she had to impart. 
 
 " Sarve him right ! " he grunted, with a not quite 
 successful attempt at the usual gruffness. " It's t' 
 best thing as could a' come to him. There's some 
 silly folk i' this world as hez to be wolloped to 
 bring 'em out. He's no more made to be a sal-fac 
 (self-acting) minder nor I'm fit for a harkangil." 
 
 And then he suddenly stopped, poised himself on 
 tip-toe, made a grab at the anxious mother's neck as 
 though about to kiss her, and pulling her head down
 
 104 THE MINDER 
 
 and placing his mouth at her ear, he whispered 
 huskily — 
 
 " The bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet will 
 be the flower." 
 
 Ten minutes later he was standing in his own back 
 room and grinning from ear to ear. He nodded 
 and chuckled at himself in the mirror, and cried 
 delightedly — 
 
 " It's working, Wilky lad, it's working ! " 
 
 That week-end the Bramwell Mercury contained 
 the following advertisement : — 
 
 Wanted. — A Young Man as Assistant, and to 
 make himself generally useful. One accustomed 
 to plain painting and polishing preferred. Apply 
 to Wilkinson Drax, Broker, Station Road. 
 
 The little man, who pretended to a supreme con- 
 tempt for all newspapers, could not wait for the boy 
 to bring his Mercury along with the other weekly 
 publications he patronised, but was at the office 
 a few minutes before the time of publication, and 
 gave the shop girl a most uncomfortable time of it 
 as he strutted about the place and fumed and snapped 
 about the unpunctuality of tradespeople, especially 
 printers ; and when at length he got possession of a 
 damp cop3^ he hurried off home, and sitting in his 
 chair, read it over and over again with great delight, 
 and then took it upstairs to show to his wife. Some 
 half-dozen applicants presented themselves during 
 Friday evening, and three more on Saturday, but 
 Wilky seemed to know they would not do almost 
 before he had seen them, and dismissed each and all 
 with sarcastic jibes, that sent them away crestfallen 
 and indignant. About six on Saturday evening he 
 observed Sampson closing the paint shop, and as 
 this seemed in some strange way to be a new
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 105 
 
 grievance to him, he walked across the road and 
 poured out a string of vague but stinging denun- 
 ciations on the young men of the period. He 
 evidently expected Sampson to ask questions which 
 would give him the opportunity of introducing the 
 subject of the advertisement, but that worthy was so 
 preoccupied with his own dismal forebodings as to 
 what would become of the family now that the chief 
 bread-winner was out of work, that the palpable 
 " leads " were none of them taken up, and Wilky, as 
 the painter locked up, went back to his own premises 
 in an irritable and explosive frame of mind. During 
 Sunday, however, he hit upon another expedient for 
 providing himself with a manservant, and on Monday 
 morning a large furniture paste advertisement card 
 was hung up in the shop window, but the printed 
 side faced inside the shop, and on the back, facing 
 the window, was written in a large, sprawling hand, 
 eked out by numerous capitals, an abbreviated 
 version of the advertisement in the Mercury. For 
 three whole days the card hung in its place, and 
 though it brought several new applicants, they 
 seemed even less satisfactory than the others, and 
 Wilky seemed doomed to final disappointment. 
 During these days, also, he made several clumsy 
 excuses for bringing the card under the notice of the 
 painter, but Sampson either could not or would not 
 understand, and at last he told a wonderful story 
 of a wholesale man who had sent him some rascally 
 apology for varnish, which he declared was nothing 
 but black treacle. So outrageous a case naturally 
 appealed to Sampson's professional sympathies, and 
 at last he strolled across the road with his companion 
 to inspect the offending preparation. The chairs 
 upon which the varnish had been tried had been 
 placed immediately under the advertisement, and 
 when Sampson had decided that the varnish in
 
 io6 THE MINDER 
 
 question, though poor, was varnish, he raised his 
 eyes and caught sight of the notice, Wilky began to 
 hum " Rock of Ages," and, turning his back to the 
 window, became much interested in the proceedings 
 of a young butcher who was trying to get a bullock 
 down a passage. Sampson had now finished his 
 inspection of the advertisement, and become suddenly 
 very thoughtful, whilst the broker still hummed away 
 at his tune. Wilky could get nothing further out of 
 his friend, who seemed to be in a most unusual hurry 
 to get home, but as soon as he had gone Wilky 
 hurried back into the shop and up the stairs, and 
 burst in upon his smiling wife with a triumphant 
 " It's workin', love ; he's limed, he is by jings ! " 
 
 Wilky was in such uncommon spirits that he 
 invited himself to take tea with his wife, and kept up 
 a brisk prophecy all through the meal as to the results 
 of the little plot he was working out, whatever that 
 might be. Between seven and eight that night 
 the broker, having brought in the goods that usually 
 stood on the pavement, and piled them higgledy- 
 piggledy in the shop, put down the door latch and 
 planted himself in his chair in evident expectation of 
 a visitor. He was impatient and fidgety, and looked 
 uneasily at his watch every minute or two. No one 
 appearing, however, he was just resolving to lock up 
 and retire when the door-bell rang. Wilky imme- 
 diately fell back in his chair, assumed an air of weary 
 indifference, and bawled out to the invisible visitor — 
 " Well, what is it ? " 
 " It is I, John Ledger, Mr. Drax." 
 "Well, what are you standing there for? Come 
 in, man." 
 
 When John reached the back room Wilky had 
 taken on the expression of one utterly weary of life 
 and who could not be interested in anything. 
 " I came to see "
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 107 
 
 " You came ! An' what business has a pale-faced 
 mvaVid as is on his club to be out at this time and i' 
 this wind ? " 
 
 But though the tone was rasping, the manner was 
 indifference itself. 
 
 " I'm all right, Mr. Drax. I'm ready for work again, 
 and I've come to see you about this advertisement." 
 
 ''Thee!" 
 
 And Wilky's wondering amazement might have 
 deceived even a sharper fellow than John Ledger. 
 
 " Yes, the doctor says I'm to have some employ- 
 ment that is less confining for a time." 
 
 Wilky rolled his big ruffled head about against the 
 back of the chair with long and apparently very 
 decided shakes. 
 
 " Did anybody ever hear of such a thing ? Why, 
 man, what does thou know about furniture ? " 
 
 "Not much; but I'm a painter's son, you know, 
 and used to plain painting and polishing." 
 
 Wilky's head-shakes were longer and more decided 
 than ever. 
 
 "What's t' use o' talkin', man? I want somebody 
 as is as strong as a elephant. Look at all this ruck 
 of lumber ! " 
 
 The little man had the air of one who was being 
 pressed into a thing that was plainly impossible, and 
 seemed in danger of losing his temper. 
 
 " John, it's ridiculous. What's t' use of harguing? 
 What does thou know about furniture ? And then 
 look at t' hours. Seven i' t' morning to eight at 
 night, half-past nine o' Fridays, an' ten-thirty o' 
 Saturdays." 
 
 " I don't mind the hours. Will you try me for a 
 short time ? " 
 
 ** Try thee ! Oh, for goodness sake, shut up, man ! 
 7 cannot pay minder's wages, man ; t' furniture trade 
 isn't a gold mine ! "
 
 io8 THE MINDER 
 
 " What were you thinking of paying, Mr. Drax ? " 
 
 " Oh, hush man ! it won't do at all, it really 
 won't," and Wilky looked exasperated almost to the 
 explosive point. But he had not answered John's 
 question, and as the young fellow was still waiting 
 for a reply Wilky went on, as a painfully reluctant 
 concession to John's aggravating persistence, " Five 
 an' twenty shillin' a week's my hgger, that's all." 
 
 " I'll be glad to come for that, and even less if 
 you'll try me." 
 
 '* Confound it ! " and Wilky rose and stood one 
 leg on the footstool and one on the floor. " Don't 
 aggravate me, man ! it won't do at all ! " 
 
 John sighed, and looked disappointed ; and Wilky, 
 studying his face by slyly squinting into the mirror, 
 saw that for the first time he was giving up the 
 contest. 
 
 " If I thought thou " — the broker began with the 
 first sign of wavering in his face, but then, after 
 looking hard at his visitor for a moment, he con- 
 tinued, " I want a helper bad enough, but it won't 
 do! it won't do!" And he settled himself in his 
 chair as though he had settled the question, and 
 wouldn't allow of its being reopened. 
 
 John turned reluctantly to the door, keen dis- 
 appointment in every line of his face ; but as he 
 began to move off the broker resumed — 
 
 " Look here," and he pulled him into the shop, 
 and showed him all the topsy-turvy, dusty, greasy 
 piles of furniture, and John, as he glanced from 
 one to the other, was fain to admit that there would 
 be work enough for a time, but he still declared he 
 would only like the job of bringing order into this 
 confusion. 
 
 Wilky " pish "-ed and " pshaw "-ed, and prophesied 
 that he would not stick to it a week. 
 
 " If only you'll give me the chance, Mr. Drax! "
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 109 
 
 "Chance! chance ! " and the broker was apparently 
 quite exasperated, " if thou will break thy back thou 
 shall do it ! Come on Monday mornin', and if thou 
 doesn't repent afoor t' first day's out I'll — I'll eat 
 my hat ! " 
 
 And when John, joyful and a little surprised, left 
 him a minute or two later at the shop door, Wilk}' 
 returned hastily to the back room, and mounting 
 upon his footstool, made a series of indescribably 
 grotesque grimaces at himself in the mirror, finishing 
 with a grand comprehensive wink that involved his 
 whole face. 
 
 Wilky saw John every day between the interview 
 just described and the commencement of his new 
 employment, and on each occasion he had some 
 fresh objection to the arrangement, and several 
 strong reasons why John would not do at all, and 
 the young minder was thus kept in a tantalising 
 condition of uncertainty. 
 
 During the same period also Wilky was engaged 
 upon some rather mysterious operations of his own. 
 He removed some of the stock accumulated round 
 the big chair in his room, and though it produced 
 much perspiration and many unparliamentary objur- 
 gations, he at last succeeded in his purpose, and 
 havin gmade room for it, brought a dingy old book- 
 case and fixed it up in the corner next to the fire, 
 and between that and the back window ; being 
 careful, for some strange reason or another, not to 
 disturb the dust. Then he ferreted out a rickety 
 old stationery case, which he stocked with writing 
 materials, and placed on the bottom shelf of the 
 bookcase. To these he added a couple of dog-eared 
 ledgers, and several greasy account books. Then he 
 raked together from different parts of the premises 
 a number of books — odd volumes of commentaries, 
 several more or less venerable theological treatises,
 
 no THE MINDER 
 
 the "Lives of the Early Methodist Preachers" 
 (complete), with a miscellaneous stock of litera- 
 ture, all more or less theological and Methodistic. 
 Many people in Wilky's place would have dusted 
 the shelves and knocked the books together, but the 
 broker, for some hidden reason that gave him secret 
 amusement, took particular pains not to disturb the 
 dust. A few of the books were modern, and their 
 owner regarded their comparative newness with dis- 
 satisfaction, and taking them down, doubled over 
 the leaves here and there, and ran a dirty thumb 
 down the creases to make them look old. 
 
 On the Friday morning the shop was closed, for 
 Wilky had gone to Manchester, and when he returned, 
 for a late dinner, he brought with him another parcel 
 of books, all new. They were works on modern theo- 
 logy, with a couple on preaching, and a one-volume 
 history of Methodism. When he placed these addi- 
 tions by the side of the others the result made him 
 shake his head. Then he rearranged them, sand- 
 wiching the new ones between older volumes, but 
 the result was not even then satisfactory. He was 
 getting a little impatient by this time, and after 
 standing back and critically surveying the little 
 library, he dashed recklessly at one of the most star- 
 ingly new of the books and rubbed it vigorously, 
 back and sides, in the dust lying thickly about on 
 the furniture. He did the same with each of the 
 new volumes, and was just beginning to look more 
 satisfied with the result, when he discovered that 
 most of them were uncut ; and so, when the shop 
 was closed that night, he went ruthlessly through 
 them all — doubling down leaves here, marking para- 
 graphs with a joiner's lead pencil there, and, in fact, 
 doing everything he could think of to give the books 
 the appearance of having been purchassd some time 
 before, and at least partly read. There was one
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN iii 
 
 tome that particularly provoked him ; do what he 
 would it still persisted in presenting a glaringly new 
 appearance, and so at last he took off the much- 
 thumbed cover from one of his wife's story books 
 and cased the offending volume in it; completing the 
 whole thing by going through the book on Sunday 
 afternoon and marking it here and there, and even 
 going to the length, now and again, of adding 
 sarcastic marginal annotations. This was a new 
 compendium of theology, then very popular in 
 Methodism, and when he had sufficiently disfigured 
 it, and subdued its scandalous newness, he took it 
 downstairs and threw it on the lowest shelf of the 
 bookcase, and then began to beat the dust out of the 
 surrounding upholstery so that some of it would 
 settle on the book. 
 
 He received John on Monday morning in his very 
 crustiest manner, and as he consumed his own break- 
 fast he held out once more on the enormous quantity 
 of work to be done. First of all he wanted his own 
 room made tidy, and instructed him to clear out 
 some of the rubbish and " titivate " things up a bit ; 
 dwelling with anxious particularity upon the fact 
 that the bookcase was not to be disturbed any more 
 than was absolutely necessary. John, whose mouth 
 watered as he glanced over the volumes, felt a 
 momentary surprise that he had never noticed them 
 before ; but as they had the appearance of having 
 been there for a long time he put it down to his 
 lack of observation, and secretly hoped to get a 
 peep now and then at the insides of the works. 
 
 For several weeks the young assistant worked hard, 
 gradually introducing some sort of order and clean- 
 liness into the business, and trying to get rid of his 
 own disappointment concerning Sallie by putting all 
 his energies into his work. Everything both in the 
 back room and the front shop was soon as straight
 
 112 THE MINDER 
 
 as a new pin, and then that inextricable medley in 
 the back warehouse behind the kitchen was attacked 
 and finally subjugated. Between-whiles, John was 
 taking peeps at Wilky's books, and though a little 
 surprised to see his master in possession of so 
 much modern theology, as he was not naturally 
 very curious he never pursued the thought, and was 
 hoodwinked by the fact that Wilky made frequent 
 and ostentatious use of the volumes, and would even 
 occasionally read extracts to him and engage him in 
 discussion as to the points raised. The work began 
 to slacken ; little by little the articles requiring to be 
 painted or repolished got finished, and John began 
 to wonder what his master would find for him to 
 do next. 
 
 The accounts were in a shocking state, how- 
 ever, and these occupied several more weeks, especi- 
 ally as he soon discovered that it was not possible to 
 comprehend them except when his master was at 
 hand to explain the cryptic entries. But Wilky with 
 somebody in charge was rapidly developing roving 
 propensities ; sales seemed to come with amazing 
 frequency, and he often absented himself for hours 
 together when there was no such things to attend to. 
 The little broker, moreover, developed peculiar views 
 of business, and after the shop had once been made 
 something like decent he laid it down as an inflexible 
 rule that when he was away, and John was in sole 
 charge, he must do nothing else but attend to the shop. 
 He might read a newspaper or even a book, the 
 master conceded, but he must be at liberty to attend 
 to the shop with the utmost promptitude immediately 
 a customer appeared. Which goes to prove that 
 precept and practice are not always the same things 
 even with furniture brokers. Left thus to himself 
 and with much time on his hands, John was drawn 
 more and more to Wilky's book-shelves, and gradually
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 113 
 
 began to realise that when the time came to leave 
 his present employment and return to the mill, the 
 hardest things to part with would be these same 
 precious volumes. All the same the long hours he 
 spent in reading made him increasingly uneasy, for 
 it was as plain to him as anything could be that 
 now, at any rate, he was not earning the money Wilky 
 paid him. It was summer by this time, and one 
 Saturday evening, as he was returning from delivering 
 a repaired chair, he was attracted by a small crowd 
 standing round what was still called the market 
 cross and listening to a speaker. He was evidently 
 some sort of Socialist, and the jibes he was throwing 
 out about the Government and the aristocracy were 
 stale enough, and John was just moving on when he 
 was arrested by a few cheap sneers at religion. The 
 crowd laughed and seemed to relish the sneers, and 
 so the speaker went further and began to hold forth 
 on the discrepancies of Scripture and its many 
 and flagrant self-contradictions. John was piqued, 
 but interested ; and the crowd showed its concern by 
 dropping into silence. Elated at the attention he 
 had awakened, the speaker, who had a ready tongue 
 and sharp wits, went further, and was just holding 
 up to ridicule certain passages of Scripture when John, 
 as much to his own astonishment as to anybody 
 else's, cried out indignantly, " Fair play ! " 
 
 " What ? What's that young ranter say ? " cried the 
 orator. " Nay, don't duck your soft head, my budding 
 theologian ; come up here and don't be afraid to back 
 your opinion." 
 
 " I'm not afraid," cried John, and in a moment he 
 was at the speaker's side. 
 
 The Socialist obsequiously made room and flung 
 out certain witty remarks about John's personal 
 appearance which mightily tickled the audience ; and 
 then turning blandly to the young minder, he cried — 
 
 M. I
 
 114 THE MINDER 
 
 " Now, my young Boanerges, speak up, and let us 
 hear what you have to say." 
 
 " I've nothing to say," said John, " except that 
 you are using one of the favourite tricks of your class 
 and not quoting Scripture, but wzs-quoting it." 
 
 " Ah ! vv'ho'd have thought it ? He doesn't look 
 much like a Regius Professor of Divinity, ladies and 
 gentlemen, does he ? Looks rather like a Salvation 
 Army soldier that's been drummed out. Now, General 
 Booth, tell us what it is I've misquoted. Order ! 
 ladies and gentlemen ; listen to this compressed 
 philosophy." 
 
 John's spirit was stirred. He felt that this man was 
 trying to make him lose his temper, but he felt cool, 
 astonishingly cool, he reflected afterwards. And so, 
 turning to the crowd, he said — 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I'm not criticising this 
 gentleman's arguments, nor you for listening to him, 
 but you'll all agree that if a man quotes he ought to 
 quote correctly." 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! " said one or two, and the orator 
 drew himself up, turned up the collar of his coat, 
 and pulling a long, sanctimonious face, whined out, 
 " A-m-e-n ! " 
 
 John waited, and observed that whilst a few 
 laughed at the mountebank's jeers, others looked 
 a little disgusted. 
 
 " I think the gentleman mentioned St. John's 
 gospel ; well, there is no such passage in St. John 
 at all." 
 
 The lecturer began to fumble hastily in the inside 
 pocket of his coat, evidently seeking some pamphlet. 
 
 " He quoted it as a saying of Jesus Christ's. It is 
 nothing of the sort ! It is a saying of the Pharisees, 
 his opponents, and you will find it in the gospel by 
 St. Mark. As for that last phrase of his, I should like 
 to ask him where, in the Bible, he found that ? "
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 115 
 
 " The walking dictionary ! The infant prodigy ! " 
 began the orator. 
 
 " Answer him ! no shuffling ! Answer him !" cried 
 several delighted ones in the crowd. 
 
 *' Gentlemen, we have got here the infant Spurgeon, 
 the " 
 
 " Answer him ! answer him ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen," said John quietly, " I'll answer 
 myself. The passage is not in the Bible at all ; it is a 
 bit of Young's ' Night Thoughts.' " 
 
 The crowd cheered and commenced to laugh, and 
 John, elated and valiant, plunged off into a description 
 of some of the social and political blessings Christianity 
 had brought, and then reminded them that he was 
 their townsman and had nothing to gain by deceiving 
 them ; and then he tumbled out confusedly a bit of 
 his own religious experience, and when at the end of 
 ten minutes he paused, out of breath, his antagonist 
 was just disappearing behind him. Some of the 
 crowd began to hustle the retiring and vanquished 
 agitator, and others shouted to John to go on. 
 
 "Friends," he gasped, "I'm a bit out of breath," 
 and then, as a great daring idea flashed across his 
 mind, he went on, " but I'll come here next Saturday 
 night and say something more if you like." 
 
 The crowd cheered, and John, now beginning to 
 feel reaction, got down and speedily made for the 
 furniture shop. He had many misgivings during 
 the next week and blamed himself not a little for his 
 impulsive offer, but faithfully next Saturday he 
 turned up at his post and preached. One or two 
 interrupted, but he found their quibbles very easy to 
 dispose of, and soon began to look for them ; for his 
 quick replies were the things the audience most 
 enjoyed. He found no lack of assistants, however, 
 and in a short time the service at the market cross 
 became a regular part of the Saturday evening's 
 
 I 2
 
 ii6 THE MINDER 
 
 proceedings, and began to make its influence felt on 
 some of the working men of the town. 
 
 As time wore on, however, John became more 
 and more uneasy about his position in Wilky's 
 business ; the books were now in order and the 
 business had actually increased a little, the people 
 finding John so much easier to deal with than his 
 master ; but John knew enough by now to realise 
 that his employer could not afford to pay him, as he 
 was doing, out of the profits of the concern, and, 
 most alarming consideration of all, he had so much 
 time on his hands that he was growing dangerously 
 fond of Wilky's books. He was, moreover, stronger 
 and healthier than he ever remembered to have been 
 in his life, having broadened out somewhat and got 
 a more wholesome look about him. There was no 
 reason therefore why he should not go back to the mill, 
 especially as it had " gone on full time," and just then 
 something happened that precipitated his decision. 
 
 It was the holiday season ; the super, was away at 
 Conference, the second minister was busy preaching 
 anniversary sermons in the villages, and so, as usual, 
 local preachers were given the rare distinction of 
 appointments in the circuit chapel. On the first 
 Sunday in August, Wilky Drax was " planned " for 
 the evening service. The fixture was a perfectly safe 
 one, for the little broker, grotesque in appearance 
 and brusque of manner, had a very decided gift, and 
 was as popular with the quality for his incisive 
 proverbial philosophy as he was with the rest for his 
 other gifts. All the same the appointment only came 
 at rare intervals, and all the week previous Wilky 
 was apparently passing through all the struggles of 
 mental production. First one and then another of 
 his books was consulted and then flung with a 
 petulant " Bosh ! " upon the book shelves, and woe 
 to the misguided customer who presumed to " haggle"
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 117 
 
 that week. Two things, however, puzzled John, one 
 was that his master never seemed to write anything 
 and the other that Wilky never opened the newer 
 volumes which he had so often and so pointedly com- 
 mended to his assistant. In the quiet hours of Friday 
 forenoon, the slackest part of the week, Wilky con- 
 descended to consult his young employee about a text. 
 " But Mordecai (pronounced by the furniture man 
 MoT-de-cay-i) bowed not nor did him reverence." John 
 laughed at the text, but his master seemed no little 
 proud of it and invited his assistant's ideas, and so 
 they slipped off into a long discussion which had no 
 result save a withering condemnation of John's 
 " one-eyed " notions and a sweepingly scornful 
 denunciation of modern commentators. The dis- 
 cussion piqued John's curiosity and he looked 
 forward to the Sunday evening service with con- 
 siderable interest. But why did his master spend 
 so very much time in examining the plan and in 
 whispered discussions with resident local preachers ? 
 Sunday night came and John was in his place under 
 the gallery in good time. The congregation, as he 
 expected, was small, but better than usual for the 
 time of the year. The preacher had a reputation for 
 fastidious punctuality, but to-night he was behind 
 time, and when the chapel clock struck six the 
 chapel-keeper had not brought the books into the 
 pulpit. John consulted his watch and ascertained 
 that the clock was not fast ; what had become of 
 Wilky? Three or four minutes passed and then 
 Barlby, the Society steward, opened the vestry door 
 a few inches, peeped here and there over the chapel ; 
 and still no Wilky. Then the vestry door was opened 
 slightly again, and Barlby looked straight across at 
 John's pew. John's heart came into his mouth, and 
 he was just wondering for the twentieth time what 
 had happened to detain his master when the folding
 
 ii8 THE MINDER 
 
 entrance door behind him creaked softl}', and a hand 
 was placed on his shoulder. 
 
 "Come and open the service," whispered Carr, 
 the junior steward. " Barlby's gone to seek Wilky." 
 
 John turned round with a suddenly whitened face 
 and gasped, " I cannot. Get some of the others." 
 
 " You are the only local here. Come on ! " 
 
 John's mother, who was sitting next to him, gave 
 him a gentle nudge, and, scarcely knowing what he 
 did, he got up and followed the steward into the 
 vestry. It took five minutes to get his consent, but 
 as Carr had now been joined by three other alarmed 
 officials, and they all insisted upon it, he at length 
 consented to commence the service, but only when 
 he was assured that Barlby had actually gone to seek 
 Wilky. His master had sent in the hymns the day 
 before, but, though that seemed reassuring, John could 
 not help fearing that his employer had found Morde- 
 cai too much for him. There were astonished and 
 inquiring looks as John, with shaking legs, ascended 
 the stairs into the tall pulpit, and his voice shook so 
 that his trembling mother bowed her head and 
 prayed. The hymn over and the prayer concluded 
 John announced the chant, and looked round anxiously 
 towards the vestry door. It opened sure enough, 
 but only Barlby, red and perspiring, emerged. 
 
 " I've knocked and knocked but I cannot get in," 
 said the steward, standing on the pulpit steps whilst 
 the singing proceeded. " He must have gone away; 
 you'll have to go on." 
 
 " I can't go on, I really can't," gasped John.- 
 
 "There's nothing else for it. Go on, lad, and God 
 help thee," and Barlby descended the stairs and 
 walked off to his pew. 
 
 John broke out into a cold sweat, and then raising 
 his eyes for the first time he glanced round the chapel 
 in search of some other preacher. They were not
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 119 
 
 there, but the deep steep gallery half full of 
 worshippers was there, and he felt as if it was coming 
 over upon him to crush him. But the singing stopped 
 and he had to get up hastily and read. Then more 
 singing, and the poor preacher realised that the 
 sermon came next. He put his hand into his pocket 
 and discovered to his relief the notes of an old dis- 
 course ; he tried to read them, but the writing ran 
 together and danced before his eyes. He felt as 
 though he were choking. One more glance at that 
 awful gallery, one more appealing look at that 
 inexorable red baize vestry door, and then the singing 
 ceased, and he was face to face with his fearful ordeal. 
 He tried to commence, but the insides of his lips 
 seemed to have upon them a thick coating of glue 
 and cracked as he parted them. The chapter and 
 verse of the text could only be heard by a few ; the 
 words seemed muffled, and a passionate impulse to 
 burst into tears came to John, and he lifted his eyes 
 helplessly towards the gallery. And that look saved 
 him ; that overpowering collection of men and women 
 all at once became a powerful magnet ; the sight of 
 those faces woke the preacher in him, his brain 
 cleared ; suddenly an unnatural collectedness came 
 upon him, and in a full, clear voice he began to speak. 
 A Methodist congregation is always interested and 
 sympathetic towards a case of this kind, and the 
 attention which the Bramwell worshippers gave to 
 the preacher cured him for the time of all undue 
 nervousness. It was seen at once that he would 
 never be the man his father had been ; words, instead 
 of rolhng and tumbling one over each other as they 
 did when the elder Ledger occupied the pulpit, now 
 came one by one, slowly and with sparing economy ; 
 picked words evidently, and short but " grippy " 
 sentences ; instead of the bubbling, sparkling head- 
 long rush, such as the older Methodist loved, there
 
 120 THE MINDER 
 
 came a quiet deep stream. Presently some of the 
 men began to look round at each other and nod, but 
 the preacher did not see them, he was now wholly a 
 messenger of the skies, not a factory lad and the son 
 of a working man ; all that was lost sight of, his 
 message was everything. 
 
 It filled him, it mastered him, and took absolute 
 possession. He was confident enough now, but it 
 was confidence in the truth he uttered, and its fitness 
 for the needs of his hearers ; self was absolutely 
 forgotten. Coolly, quietly, with simple epigrammatic 
 terseness, and with phrases that were half pictures, 
 he argued his case, and when finally, after a three 
 minutes' strong appeal, he finished, the congregation 
 looked round in astonishment to discover that he 
 had been preaching a full half-hour. As wine leaves 
 its flavour in the cup, so the inflation of the moment 
 clung to John and kept him up during the concluding 
 part of the service. It was fast passing away, how- 
 ever, and by the time he came to the benediction 
 self-consciousness had returned, and he crept down 
 the pulpit stairs with a sickening sense of failure. 
 
 "John! John!" whispered Barlby, meeting him 
 at the foot of the stairs. " Thou's forgotten the 
 prayer-meeting." 
 
 With another pang of shame John hurried back 
 and gave out a hymn, and as he timidly found his 
 way down into the communion the congregation 
 dismissed, a few only remaining for the after-service. 
 The people from the gallery, however, came in, in 
 some numbers, and when the prayers commenced 
 John bowed his head on the communion table and 
 gave way to acute mental distress. 
 
 "Another prayer, please," he said in absent, per- 
 functory manner, at the first pause, and a great gush 
 of emotion swelled up within him as he heard 
 suddenly a voice he had never listened to before in
 
 GREATNESS THRUST UPON JOHN 121 
 
 that building — the voice of his silent, suffering mother. 
 She seemed inspired, her face shone, though her 
 voice shook ; she made no reference to the service, 
 she was praying for the ungodly, the careless, the 
 lukewarm, and in the midst of her low, intense plead- 
 ings John heard a sound of pew doors being opened 
 and a scrambling of feet, and raising his head, 
 lo ! there were three of the rough fellows he had 
 harangued on succeeding Saturday nights at the 
 market-cross being now led up to the penitent form, 
 and as he choked back the rush of emotion, it welled 
 up afresh in irresistible gushes, as, looking round, he 
 saw his favourite sister Lucy rise from her place, 
 step past the still pleading mother, and kneel down 
 by the side of the men. This is the sort of scene 
 that appeals to all Methodists, and when at length 
 the after-meeting closed the elders present crowded 
 round John and made his heart burn with gratitude, 
 and a sort of joy to which he was a stranger, as they 
 congratulated him on the "good time " he had had. 
 John, shyly happy, wanted to get away, but just as 
 he was turning into the vestry a woman from the 
 free seats suddenly pushed her way to him, and 
 seizing his hand cried, " God bless thee ! thou'rt but 
 a lad, but thou's found me a lost husband to-night ; " 
 and behind her a shaking old body raised her chin 
 over a bystander's shoulder and said, " I'd sooner be 
 thy mother than Queen of England." Then there 
 was a cry in a distant pew, and John's mother was 
 seen hugging her newly-converted daughter, and John, 
 abashed but happy, was glad to escape. He did not 
 get clear away though, without several other con- 
 gratulations, and when he did so his first thought 
 was what had happened to Wilky. He hurried off 
 to see, and found, in spite of Barlby's positive state- 
 ments, the furniture shop door wide open. He could 
 hear many voices all talking together as he entered,
 
 122 THE MINDER 
 
 and when he reached the back-room there were three 
 local preachers, his father and old Butterworth the 
 exhorter ; whilst sitting in the big chair, muffled up 
 and bewrapped as if it had been winter, and he had 
 taken a severe cold, was Wilky, who, as soon as he 
 caught sight of John, pulled a long face, rolled 
 up the whites of his eyes, and groaning out, " I've 
 gotten t'mental gitis/' burst into a loud triumphant 
 guffaw.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 
 
 " Master, I want to speak to you ; I want to give 
 you a week's notice." 
 
 " Eh ? what ? Don't bother me, I'm reading," and 
 Wilky became absorbed again in his newspaper, only 
 John observed that it was the sporting page and was 
 therefore not deceived. 
 
 " I want to leave you next Saturday night." 
 
 ''That's it! That's it," and Wilky threw the 
 newspaper from him, gave the footstool a savage 
 kick, and sprang down from his chair. " Another 
 blown-up bladder ! Another young jackass as canna 
 carry corn. He takes his wages in a second-hand 
 shop o' Saturday night an' says, * Thank you,' but 
 canna look at nowd less nor a harchbishop or a 
 president o' t' Conference 'cause he preached i' t' 
 circuit chapil o' t' Sunday." 
 
 John listened patiently to this outburst, and then 
 shook his head with a quiet smile and said — 
 
 " Ah, master, I've found you out." 
 
 " Eh ? Me ! Well, that's a walloper ! What 
 next ? " and Wilky put on an excellent pretence of 
 injured innocence, but laughter and triumphant 
 recollection gleamed in his ej-es, and his mouth 
 twitched mischievously at the corner. 
 
 " You never wanted an assistant at all, Mr. Drax, 
 you only wanted to help me.' 
 
 " He's oif it ! He's fair off his chump ! That owd
 
 124 THE MINDER 
 
 woman's blather and soft sawder last night has 
 turned his silly head." 
 
 John waited until the tirade was finished and then 
 went on — 
 
 "And I've found out what those books in the 
 corner mean, too." 
 
 " Books ! Has thou been reading my books ? I don't 
 allow nobody to touch them;" but as Wilky had 
 seen him reading the volumes times without number, 
 this last response only went to show how hard put 
 to it he was for a reply of any kind. 
 
 ** Master," and John's face became grave and his 
 voice thick, " I shall never forget your kindness to 
 me — and — mine — but I cannot let it go on " 
 
 Wilky jerked his head back with a contemptuous 
 snort, and then with sudden change of thought he 
 dashed at his assistant, grabbed him fiercely by the 
 coat, and looking hard into his face he demanded — 
 
 " An' what about t' ministry ? " 
 
 A light came into John's eye. He drew down the 
 lids to hide it, and answered hesitantly — 
 
 " That we must leave to God, master." 
 
 "That's it!" and Wilky let go his hold and 
 twisted round with a scornful gesture. " It's goin' 
 to be shoved on God now ! We goes clashin' and 
 mashin' till we're stuck, an' then we turn pious and 
 leaves it to t' Almighty. We calls it resignation, 
 by jings ! when it's nowt but duffin' cowardliness ! 
 Leave it to t'Almighty ! two-thirds of all t' resignation 
 i' t' world is simply lazy lack-o'-pluck. God helps 
 them as helps thersels, that's my motty." 
 
 " But I don't want to be a minister ! " 
 
 " Well, did Moses ? an' Isaiah ? Did Paul ? Them 
 as wants, isn't wanted ; it's them as doesn't want as 
 get called." 
 
 For a quarter of an hour longer the discussion 
 went on, and as John had gone further this time
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 125 
 
 than he had ever done before, Wilky was afraid to 
 push him more and finally broke off the interview 
 and toddled across to the paint shop. 
 
 Left to himself in the little back room John became 
 the prey of conflicting and anxious thoughts. His 
 success of the night before had reopened the question 
 of his future, and he did not hide from himself that 
 he would have to face the matter once more. One 
 thing that had helped him hitherto had been that 
 he lacked that indubitable sign of the call — fruit, but 
 he could now fall back upon that no longer. The 
 call of the Church, too, now became unmistakable, 
 only the very extravagance of the language used by 
 his new admirers frightened him. This uneasiness 
 was deepened by the discovery that at the bottom of 
 his heart, kept down by self-mistrust, he now found 
 a new and alarming eagerness which awakened his 
 strongest suspicions. He had been brought up in a 
 circle in which certain standards of pulpit ability 
 were recognised, and he knew that he did not possess 
 a single one of the qualifications which were regarded 
 as essential. He had not what was commonly known 
 as the " gift of the gab ; " he knew that he could not 
 speak unless he had something to say. But he did 
 not know then that that was one of the surest guaran- 
 tees of success, and that oneofthe most dangerous gifts 
 that a minister can possess is a " fatalfacility of speech." 
 
 The compliments he had received the night before 
 had frightened him, but the consciousness that a 
 mysterious change had taken place in his own feelings 
 was more alarming still. Well, at any rate, he could 
 "sit tight," and in spite of Wilky that was what 
 he would do. But the question refused to be thus 
 disposed of, and returned again and again. The 
 improvement in his health had restored to him some 
 of the natural buoyancy of youth, and his contact 
 with Wilky's hastily collected but seductive library
 
 126 THE MINDER 
 
 had quickened his natural taste for study, and he 
 was compelled to admit that preaching had become 
 a pleasure to him, though a somewhat fearful one. 
 If the Church thought he had gifts and insisted upon 
 calling him, it was a serious thing to refuse. Were 
 there not men he knew, his own father for instance, 
 who had according to local Methodist opinion been 
 unfortunate in all their undertakings because they 
 had, at his age, resisted the call of God ? If he could 
 be sure, if God would condescend to give him some 
 definite sign ; if, best of all, God would so order events 
 that he was left without option, he could accept the 
 position with something more than resignation. But 
 that was the very point ; whatever others might say, 
 however constraining the nature of events, he could 
 not for a moment allow himself to suppose that the 
 burden of choice would lie anywhere but upon his own 
 conscience, and if it rested there he had no confidence 
 whatever which justified him in allowing matters to 
 take their own course. And supposing he did go 
 forward as a candidate and was accepted, what 
 about the financial considerations involved ? He had 
 during his service with Wilky saved about four 
 pounds, the largest sum he had ever had of his own ; 
 his education and maintenance at college would, 
 of course, cost nothing, but he would want some 
 sort of outfit, and several pounds at least would be 
 required for that. But most serious consideration 
 of all, what would become of his family if his support 
 were withdrawn ? Could they do without him ? 
 They never had done since he could remember, or, 
 at any rate, since he began to work ; his father's 
 contributions were never a full man's wages, and 
 every year or two those dreadful crises, which always 
 aged his mother and left a sickening scare on his 
 own mind, came — crises arising from legal proceedings 
 taken by the painter's creditors to recover overdue
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 127 
 
 accounts. In these matters his father was always 
 secretive, and whilst it was easy to read his mind on 
 most questions, they generally knew nothing of the 
 difficulty until the sheriff's officer walked into the 
 house. John had been brought up in circles in which 
 such texts as "Whoso loveth father or mother more 
 than Me is not worthy of Me," were interpreted with 
 the baldest literality, and he knew that if he got an 
 indubitable call, mother or no mother, cash or no 
 cash, he would have nothing to do but obey ; but as 
 yet there was no such peremptory summons, and he 
 was at liberty to debate these things; and as he did 
 so his heart and even his eyes filled, and he declared 
 again and again to himself that he could not and 
 would not leave his mother to struggle on with the 
 burdens that had crushed all her married life. His 
 mother had made a sacrifice of position and friends 
 when she married his father, and had instilled into him 
 a feeling of almost awe for his parent, but as he had 
 grown up and come to look at things for himself, he 
 had separated the preacher from the man and had 
 gradually grown to regard himself as his mother's 
 protector. How could he leave her to fight this 
 endless, hopeless battle of hers alone ! He would 
 not do it ; it would be cowardly and selfish ! No- 
 body should ever worm out of him the real reason, but 
 the patient, heroic woman he loved should not be 
 left to struggle by herself. And from one woman 
 his thoughts moved easily to another. He still loved 
 Sallie ; she had dismissed him from motives which, 
 if he could not sympathise with, he could perfectly 
 understand. From the ordinary standpoints of life 
 she was not to blame for being ambitious, and surely 
 not for being ambitious for her lover. It looked 
 very much as though she had only encouraged him 
 when she thought there was a chance of becoming a 
 minister's wife, but his own pride and the faith born
 
 128 THE MINDER 
 
 of his love for her, rebuked such a suggestion and he 
 fought it down. She was a clear-headed girl, and 
 belonged to a shrewd, if rather worldly family ; she 
 loved him, but would not show her affection because 
 there seemed no chance of it ever coming to any- 
 thing, as long as he was only a minder. When there 
 had appeared to be better prospects for him she had 
 not been able to conceal her joy, but had betrayed 
 her real feelings. That was the view he took of it. 
 Once or twice the facts took on a quite ugly appear- 
 ance as he looked at them, and seem to say that she 
 did not care at all for him for his own sake, and the 
 thought, though he rebuked it as unworthy and 
 unjust to Sallie, somehow would not be altogether 
 silenced. He had not seen very much of her since 
 the day of his dismissal. He had felt humiliated 
 and somewhat embittered when he found himself 
 relegated to that company of snubbed admirers of 
 which Sam Kepple was the most conspicuous member. 
 There was really no cause for him to complain. 
 Sallie had been painfully open through it all ; she 
 liked him, but she would not marry a mill-hand ; 
 and he had every reason to believe that if he did 
 become a candidate for the ministry she would receive 
 him eagerly. Ah ! where was he drifting to ? The 
 whispering syren was suggesting so very pleasant 
 a course that, as usual, the attractiveness of it alarmed 
 him ; a thing so delightful to flesh and blood must 
 be bad. No ! the questions must be kept entirely 
 separate. If he allowed his circumstances on the 
 one hand, or his chance of gaining Sallie on the other, 
 to come into the discussion, he was compromised 
 at once ; the question of the ministry must stand 
 absolutely by itself; to allow any of these things to 
 influence him would be to betray his trust. 
 
 And whilst John was engaged in these reflections, 
 the left wing of the Bramwell Methodists was holding
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 129 
 
 solemn conclave at the paint shop. Four or five of 
 the lay preachers and minor officials had assembled 
 for the purpose of congratulating Sampson on his 
 son's success, and the little broker on the strategic 
 brilliance of the scheme he had so cleverly carried 
 out. 
 
 Jacob Ramsden, the leader, who was an ardent 
 admirer of the declamatory and picturesque oratory 
 of the older school, was declaring, as Wilky joined 
 the company — 
 
 " He'll nivver be t' man his father's been — for 
 hunction." 
 
 ** Thank goodness for that ! " grunted the little 
 broker, strutting to the bench and screwing himself 
 upon the seat. 
 
 "He's gotten an old head on his shoulders, too," 
 said Zeph Wood, staring before him with a look of 
 profound conviction. 
 
 " It's nivver his own head, that isn't ; he picked 
 it up i' some old churchyard, that's what he did," 
 assented Gridge, the water-rate collector, hitching his 
 book tighter under his arm and looking round on 
 the company as though defying contradiction. 
 
 Wilky snorted with an air of superior contempt, 
 and the rapid motion of his little legs created the 
 expectation of speech, but before he could get started, 
 old Zeph, cocking his head on one side calculatingly, 
 broke in — 
 
 " It costs summat, I reacon, to send 'em to college ? " 
 
 " An' riggin' 'em out," added Ramsden. 
 
 "Yes, brethren," said Sampson with a sigh of 
 martyr-like resignation, " it's a serious question, is 
 that, what that lad's cost me i' heddication " — and 
 then breaking off in the triumph of sudden but 
 gigantic self-sacrifice — " but it shall be done, if it 
 cosses me my last penny ! The Lord gave, an' the 
 Lord taketh away." 
 
 M. K
 
 130 THE MINDER 
 
 Wilky glared at the painter with indignation, 
 knowing as he did that John had been for years the 
 mainstay of the family, and had brought in more 
 pounds than he had ever cost shillings. In another 
 moment he would have withered his friend with an 
 unusually scorching reply, but just then Ramsden 
 broke in — 
 
 " Ay, it 'ull be a great sacrifice for thee, Sampson ! " 
 
 "Sacrifice!" and Sampson rolling his eyes up- 
 ward and tossing back his long hair, went on : 
 " Every heart knoweth its own bitterness, but this 
 shall be my box of ointment, brethren. Have we 
 received good at the hand of the Lord, and shall 
 we not receive evil ? " 
 
 " Evil ! " roared Wilky, and switching off his seat 
 and stepping where he could take a professional 
 glance at the shop opposite : " Evil ! He has a son 
 as is called to be a minister, an' he calls it evil ! 
 He gets a chance of paying back all the Lord's 
 lost by him, and he calls it evil ! Bosh ! Blather ! " 
 — but here he broke off, and rushing to the door he 
 shouted to John, who was arguing with an evidently 
 awkward customer : " Don't let her have it at any 
 price, lad ! " and then shaking his head and nodding 
 consequentially he waddled, with a disgusted you- 
 can't-come-over-me sort of look, to his place on the 
 bench. 
 
 Zeph Wood was rubbing his rough chin in a 
 painful cogitation. When it came to parting with 
 money he generally had to do considerable screwing 
 up of himself. 
 
 " There was a subscription gotten up for Bob 
 Clumberson, wasn't there ? " he said at last, forcing 
 the words out with difficulty and hesitating between 
 each one. 
 
 " Ranter folk hez ranter ways," objected Wilky 
 shortly.
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 131 
 
 Sampson had pricked up his ears at the mention 
 of a subscription, but as he caught Wilky's stern eye 
 fixed upon him he raised his brush, and holding it 
 between his face and the light he screwed up one eye 
 and squinting at his stumpy tool, he said resignedly — 
 
 " Him as sends t' prophet 'ull send t' ravens to 
 feed him." 
 
 Gridge, the collector, began to move towards the 
 door. 
 
 "Well, if there's anythin' done, I'll stand my 
 corner," he said. 
 
 " Same here," said Ramsden, puffing grimly at a 
 pipe. 
 
 " Put me down for a fi' pun note," added Zeph 
 with a reluctant sigh. 
 
 This was the largest subscription that the old 
 fellow had ever been known to give, and he had 
 offered it spontaneously ; and every man there stole 
 a sidelong inquiring glance at him, for, with the 
 possible exception of Wilky, none of them knew 
 anything of John's relationship with Sallie. 
 
 "T' brass is nowt," cried Wilky, with a petulant 
 jerk of the head, "it's t' chap as stan's i' t' road." 
 
 Sampson heaved a sigh, so long and appealing that 
 the irascible little broker could not allow it to pass. 
 
 " Wot's up now ? " he demanded crossly. 
 
 "The whale! I see the whale," and Sampson, 
 striking a sort of prophetic attitude, and using the 
 brush as a wand, went on in funereal tones, "the 
 way of duty is oft through the vasty deep ; the way 
 to Nineveh is through the whale's belly." 
 
 "An' the way to crazy Bedlam's through a 
 bloomin' paint shop," and Wilky, who had slipped 
 off the bench, assumed an attitude in imitation of 
 Sampson's mock heroics, and whined out the 
 "bloomin"' in a manner that set the others off in 
 explosions of laughter. 
 
 K 2
 
 132 THE MINDER 
 
 "Good morning, gentlemen! Good mornmg ! 
 Well, Brother Ledger, your son had a grand time 
 last night," said the second minister, stepping in his 
 brisk way into the shop. 
 
 "There's been nowt like it i' that chapel this ten 
 year," cried Wilky, characteristically ignoring both 
 that he had not heard the sermon, and that he was 
 speaking to one who might take it as a personal 
 reflection. 
 
 But the minister seemed to be thinking of some- 
 thing else, and so, accepting the stump near the stove, 
 he sat down, and with an absent glance round the 
 shop he said — 
 
 " I suppose your son has an excellent memory, 
 Mr. Ledger ? " 
 
 " Moderate sir, moderate ! — for him." 
 
 Sampson evidently wished to convey that his 
 son's memory was about equal to his other gifts, 
 but that neither in that nor in other things could 
 he be expected to be equal to some others — himself, 
 for instance. 
 
 " He doesn't get his sermons off by heart, if that's 
 wot you mean," cried Wilky, eyeing the minister 
 with surly suspicion. 
 
 "H'm, do you happen to know how he prepares 
 his sermons. Brother Ledger ? " 
 
 Every one present was watching the minister now 
 with strained attention. 
 
 "Me, sir! No, sir; he takes counsel happen wi' 
 the stranger, but never with his own parent." 
 
 As this was a fling at both John and his employer, 
 Ramsden and Zeph winced in expectation of an 
 explosion, but the little broker was evidently thinking 
 hard upon some problem in the presence of which 
 Sampson's little slur was as nothing. He took his 
 pipe out of his mouth, and absently dropped it into 
 the pocket of his over-sized coat ; then he cleared
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 133 
 
 his throat, as if he was about to speak, but contented 
 himself with watching the minister Hke a terrier at a 
 rat-hole. 
 
 " Does he read much sermon literature, should 
 you think ? " was the next question. 
 
 " I fear not, sir ; he doesn't even look at that 
 blessed paper, the Christian Prophet." 
 
 " Christian humbug," interjected Wilky, with 
 ineffable contempt. 
 
 The minister seemed hesitant and perplexed. 
 
 " He doesn't take in any preacher's publications — 
 the Christian World Pulpit, for instance ? " 
 
 " He may do, sir, he takes in a lot ; but he keeps 
 'em locked up in his desk upstairs." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 After a moment's rather awkward pause the 
 minister rose, and began to move slowly doorwards ; 
 but Wilky was before him. Planting his stumpy 
 form in the way, he cried peremptorily — 
 
 " Hold, sir ! Tit for tat. You've been axin' a lot 
 o' questions, happen you won't mind answerin' one 
 or two." 
 
 " Well, Brother Drax ? " and the cleric's face 
 expressed more amusement than concern. 
 
 " We want to know what there is behind these 
 here questions o' yours, sir." 
 
 " Oh, nothing, sir, nothing — at present," and the 
 reverend gentleman tried to pass his interrogator. 
 
 *' It won't do, sir," and Wilky shook his head with 
 defiant resoluteness. " I'm not the father of this 
 here lad, thank the Lord, I — I wish I was, but I'm 
 his gaffer just now, an' I'm goin' to stick up for him, 
 b-b-less him," and the little man suddenly became 
 husky and rather incoherent. 
 
 The minister smiled again at Wilky's self-contra- 
 dictions, but seemed touched by his evident emotion, 
 and so he said —
 
 134 THE MINDER 
 
 "Well, the fact is, I have heard three times this 
 morning that John preached somebody else's sermon, 
 and Flintop has been to me to say he'll have the 
 thing bottomed." 
 
 Wilky stood glaring at the minister thunderstruck, 
 then he turned with blended amazement and appeal 
 in his eyes from one to the other of his friends, and 
 suddenly whisking round he made a dart towards 
 the street with the evident intention of fetching John. 
 But the minister was too quick for him ; snatching 
 at his coat collar he pulled him back into the shop 
 and then begged him to listen to reason. 
 
 ** Reason ! It's slander ! It's spite an' malice. 
 
 Let me go oh ! — oh, by jings, my coat's afire ! " 
 
 and the excited little fellow jumped round, and, 
 taught by past experiences, jammed his coat against 
 the wall and began to crush out the smouldering 
 in the cloth ; the fact being, of course, that his 
 forgotten, but still lighted pipe, had burnt its way 
 through the pocket and set fire to his clothing. 
 
 When Wilky had extinguished the burning, and 
 flung the offending pipe into the street, Sampson, 
 who had taken very little notice of an incident that 
 was not very uncommon, stood staring through the 
 dusty window, and as soon as there was silence he 
 brought back the conversation by saying in lame, 
 apologetic tones — 
 
 " The poor lad was taken unawares, you know, 
 sir." 
 
 The minister looked at the painter curiousl3\ It 
 was odd, even suspicious, he thought, that the 
 father of the supposed culprit should be the only 
 one to think that the charge might possibly be true. 
 But whilst he was occupied with these thoughts, 
 Wilky, whose left trousers leg now bulged out and 
 stuck in the top of his Wellington boot, had dodged 
 past his pastor and now appeared dragging John
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 135 
 
 fiercely by the collar across the street, and then 
 pushing him before him he cried — 
 
 *' Come on ! Come on ! Own up wi' thee ! thou'rt 
 a hypocrite, thou'rt a sneaking thief, thou'rt a 
 swindling playgerist ! " 
 
 "No, no! Brother Drax, don't be so violent!" 
 cried the minister in distress, but as there was now 
 no way out of it he looked at the bewildered John 
 and went on. "The people are so surprised with 
 your sermon last night, Mr. John, that they wonder 
 whether it was your own ? " 
 
 John opened his eyes widely, and then with smiling 
 incredulity he answered — 
 
 " Nobody who heard it has any doubts, sir." 
 
 "No! Why?" 
 
 " If ever I do steal a sermon, sir, it shall be one 
 worth stealing," and John, in the easiness of 
 innocence, smiled again. 
 
 " Then this sermon was your own — absolutely and 
 entirely your own ? " 
 
 " Of course, sir ; those who heard it know that." 
 
 " But you quoted somebody pretty freely, perhaps? " 
 
 John thought for a moment. 
 
 " No, sir. I don't remember to have quoted an}-- 
 thing but Scripture." 
 
 " But you have seen somebody else's sermon on 
 the text and have, unconsciously, I daresay, adopted 
 the thoughts." 
 
 So far John had been more amused than anything 
 else, but now he began to think it must be serious. 
 
 " Oh no, sir ; I've never even heard a sermon on 
 the text." 
 
 " And you haven't borrowed the thoughts from 
 any published sermon on any other text ? " 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you had heard the sermon you would 
 know that ; the fact is I only had a few notes, but 
 I'll show them to you, sir."
 
 136 THE MINDER 
 
 " Thank you ; the very thing, if you would ! " and 
 then pausing and looking at him steadily he said: 
 "John, I believe you absolutely, but this is more 
 serious than you, perhaps, think. Flintop says he 
 is certain he has seen the discourse in print and can 
 produce it, and if he does — but you had better give 
 me your notes, here and now, in the presence of 
 witnesses. Flintop is not easily shaken off, you 
 
 know, and if he should make a clique, well " 
 
 and he shrugged his shoulders expressively. 
 
 John hurried off to fetch the notes, and when he 
 had gone the minister turned to the others and said : 
 
 " You see, gentlemen, the super, and I have set our 
 hearts on John being a candidate, apart altogether 
 from what took place last night ; but if Flintop 
 thinks a thing he sticks to it, and if he and his 
 friends, even a few of them, voted against John it 
 would be serious, for the exact numbers, for and 
 against and even neutral, have to be returned on the 
 schedule." 
 
 As the preacher finished his explanation Ramsden 
 leaned forward, and glancing across, called Wilky's 
 attention to the fact that a customer wanted him. 
 
 " Ler 'em want," snapped the broker, and deliber- 
 ately turned his back upon the door. " Who's owd 
 Flintop ? Who cares for him ? Doesn't he oppose 
 everything ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so ! But, you see, in this case he could 
 make it very awkward for John — and for us." 
 
 ** He can make it very awkerd for hisself. Ler him 
 do it ! just ler him do it ! an' then ler him look out 
 for Robert Wilkinson Drax, that's all," and banging 
 his fist on the dusty counter Wilky glared defiance 
 at the whole universe. 
 
 " Many are the afflictions of the righteous," groaned 
 Sampson with a sniff, but as the broker's nerves were 
 just then screwed up to their highest tension he 

 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 137 
 
 whipped round, and flashing a look of annihilation 
 at the painter, he snarled — 
 
 "Ay! but them as lives wi' 'em 'as a fine sight 
 more." 
 
 But at this moment John returned, and handed a 
 closely written sheet of paper to the minister, who, 
 after examining it, said — 
 
 " I'll take this, John, and keep it for a while — 
 a — a — don't worry yourself. I think we shall be 
 all right now. Good morning ! " and with a glance 
 round and a nod he hastened away. 
 
 John went back to the little inner room at the 
 shop feeling weary and out of heart. The charge 
 of plagiarism did not of itself trouble him, but he 
 realised that, though it would have been talked about 
 in any case, it drew most of its seriousness from his 
 supposed candidature, and he half wished that the 
 delusion might be believed, and thus extinguish all 
 idea of his being brought forward. Then he wondered 
 what he could do, short of openly refusing, in order 
 to set the matter for ever at rest, and in this connec- 
 tion, as in all others, his mind went back to Sallie. 
 Why not get her and marry her, and thus end all 
 this bother ? But he had never seriously tried ; he 
 had accepted his dismissal in the tamest possible way. 
 ** Faint heart never won fair lady ; " why shouldn't 
 he try, and keep on trying until he succeeded ? She 
 was a woman after all, and as amenable to impor- 
 tunity as other women ; she did love him, she had 
 shown she did. What a poor sort of a fellow she 
 must have thought him when he accepted his dis- 
 missal in that chicken-hearted way ! He was not 
 worthy of her if he gave her up like that ; he would 
 try again. 
 
 " You're in a brown study, John." 
 
 John started guiltily and looked round, and there 
 stood Mrs. Drax on one of her rare visits downstairs.
 
 138 THE MINDER 
 
 He jumped to his feet and offered her the big chair, 
 and as she smiHngly accepted it she raised her eyes, 
 and said — 
 
 " Well, John, you have become quite famous all 
 at once. I'm almost as pleased as Drax and the 
 others." 
 
 " Thank you, ma'am ; but I wish they would let 
 me alone." 
 
 Mrs. Drax smiled complacently ; she held firmly 
 the old Methodist belief that reluctance to " go out " 
 was a sign of special grace, and that only those who 
 felt like that were really fit and called. John's 
 answer, therefore, was the most satisfactory possible. 
 Looking at him affectionately, she said — 
 
 " It's a serious thing to refuse the call, John." 
 " It's much more serious to mistake it, ma'am." 
 " But if the Church calls you, they are responsible, 
 not you." 
 
 " No, ma'am ; God's given me reason and will and 
 conscience. I am responsible." 
 
 The large, sweet woman's heart was glowing with 
 thankful pride ; this attitude of John's was almost 
 ideal to her. Presently she leaned forward, and 
 touching him gently with her soft hand and dropping 
 her voice into a confidential tone, she asked — 
 "Wouldn't you like to be a minister, John ? " 
 A warm gush of feeling flooded John's heart, and 
 he answered, with shaking voice and shining eyes — 
 " Oh, ma'am, I should glory in it — if I were fit." 
 " Is that your only objection, my dear ? " 
 Terms of endearment were rare amongst the class 
 to which these two belonged, and the tender words 
 thrilled John through and through ; his head dropped 
 a little, and he turned his face away, but he did not 
 answer. 
 
 Mrs. Drax sat watching him with sympathetic 
 intentness for a few moments, and then she said,
 
 SOME STONES FOR THE OTHER POCKET 139 
 
 in tones that were soft to commence with, but that 
 grew in intensit}^ as she spoke — 
 
 "Laddy, thy mother and I were girls together; 
 she was the proudest girl in Bramwell and the 
 prettiest : she's borne her long struggle with poverty 
 like a saint, but if she thought that poverty was going 
 to spoil the life of her idol, I verily believe she would 
 curse her Maker." 
 
 As John covered his face with his hands and sighed 
 she saw that her suspicions were justified, and that 
 this dread difficulty had a prominent place in his 
 thoughts. She watched his distress with tears 
 gathering under her own lashes, and presently she 
 said gravely — 
 
 "If you are sure you ought not to offer, ladd}^ — 
 but, oh, be sure of it — then we must find some other 
 reason than poverty; it would break her heart." 
 
 Even yet John did not speak, and so thinking, 
 woman-like, of the only argument that appeared 
 applicable, she went on — 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to see her proud and happy, 
 John? It's time she had something to comfort her, 
 she's had trouble enough." 
 
 And then John lifted his head and looked at her ; 
 he seemed to hesitate for an instant, and then com- 
 menced, and told her all his fears and struggles, and 
 showed her with ample detail how that it was not a 
 question of like or dislike nor even of lack of means, 
 though he saw not how that was to be overcome ; it 
 was solely that he could not be sure that he had 
 either the gifts or the call of God. He was sure 
 of her sympathy and had great confidence in her 
 judgment, and so he talked freely, and she nodded 
 and smiled, and looked grave again, as he went over 
 the case point by point. 
 
 "Well, laddy," she said, with a sweet, motherly 
 smile, " there's one remedy left, and we must try
 
 140 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 that. It's borne in upon me that you are to be a 
 minister, and if God sends the call, He'll find the 
 way," and John did not know that she had sacrificed 
 her summer's holiday and her husband a new suit 
 of clothes in order to find employment, and give 
 opportunity for study, to their unnecessary assistant. 
 John realised that he was approaching a crisis ; all 
 that afternoon he went about with burning head and 
 lips that moved in silent prayer, and when his duties 
 were finished, instead of going home, he turned into 
 Station Road, and then into the fields beyond. It 
 was a balmy August evening, and as dark as it would 
 ever be that night, and he crossed Ringham's pasture 
 and worked round towards Shed Lane. Just as he 
 reached the footpath he heard a soft laugh that went 
 through him, and lifting his head and looking over 
 the hedge he saw a couple of courters on the other 
 side of the lane. The man had his arm in the girl's, 
 and the girl was Sallie Wood.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES ON HER LOVER 
 
 An exclamation, smothered e'er it could escape, 
 rose to John's lips, and he stood staring in a perfect 
 rage of sudden jealousy after the retreating figures. 
 His first impulse was to dash after them, and pour 
 out his reproaches upon the shallow-minded girl who 
 could so easily abandon him ; but, standing there 
 in the twilight, he checked himself. He was not 
 mistaken either in the voice or the trim, easily 
 recognisable figure, and he watched them go round 
 the bend of the lane and pass out of sight, with a 
 heart full of hot, raging passion. Then a faint 
 feeling crept over him ; he felt he had lost some- 
 thing, and lost it for ever. It was some time before 
 he could think clearly, and then he was glad he had 
 not obeyed his first impulse. Sallie was perfectly 
 free ; it was five months at least since she had given 
 him his conge, so that he could not charge her with 
 indecent haste. There had never been the least 
 indefiniteness in her attitude, he knew from her 
 own lips why she could no longer entertain his 
 suit, and there was no reason whatever why she 
 should not console herself with some more tract- 
 able aspirant. These things were easy to see ; but 
 there was something behind them all, something 
 deeper and more significant, something which he 
 had not the courage to put into words all at once. 
 She did not love him, she never had loved him, as
 
 142 THE MINDER 
 
 he understood the word. He saw now that he 
 had been nursing a delusion ; he had resigned her, 
 given her up, and accepted his position ; but now 
 he knew that he never really had resigned her, 
 and that underneath all this fear and sorrow of his 
 there had always been the hope — the belief, in fact — 
 that she did care for him, and that even her worldly- 
 minded attitude towards his future was only a 
 left-handed sort of manifestation of that love. How 
 much that hope had been to him he onlj- now knew, 
 and the cowardice, the self-deceit, the madness of 
 longer clinging to it, he also knew. In that bitter 
 moment his love did not die ; it became a forbidden 
 thing. He felt like a judge called in the course of 
 his duty to pass the extreme sentence on some dear 
 friend, certain of his duty, but paralysed by his 
 affection. If Sallie had turned back in the lane 
 just then, he was not so sure that he would not 
 have taken her to his heart ; but he knew that in 
 so doing he would have been outraging his con- 
 science and degrading his manhood. He turned 
 now, and began to move slowly homewards. All 
 that night and the next day he wrestled with his 
 perplexities. Sometimes it seemed to him that he 
 was making an unnecessary trouble of it, the situa- 
 tion was not after all much changed, and where it 
 was, it was clearl}^ a change for the better, and 
 ought to assist his resignation ; but whenever he 
 got to that point, and was deciding to let things 
 slide, an imperious protest rose within him. He 
 was once more seeking to evade the responsibility 
 of personal decision, and an accusing voice called 
 him traitor. 
 
 "John," said Mrs. Drax, to whom at last he 
 
 imparted his aching secret, and whose gentle face 
 
 became grave and almost stern as he told his tale, 
 
 John, Sallie is a clever lass and a bonnie one.
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 143 
 
 She's just the girl to help a man to get on, and 
 she will — if she loves him ; but God help the man 
 who gets her without her love." 
 
 He thanked the good woman for her words, but he 
 didn't like them. It was just what he felt himself — 
 just the sort of fear he knew his mother had ; and 
 this strong confirmation, he was distressed to find, 
 annoyed him. All the help he got came to the sup- 
 port of his judgment ; but oh, he wanted somebody 
 to say a word for his clinging, reluctant heart. 
 
 All that week John and Wilky kept up a succession 
 of skirmishes about the notice he had given to leave, 
 and when Friday afternoon came and he asked "off" 
 for an hour to apply for work at Carkham & Horrocks' 
 factory, Wilky flatly refused, and treated him to a 
 string of his most energetic English. It increased 
 his embarrassment to note also that his master and 
 the rest of the paint-shop fraternity were taking the 
 charge of sermon stealing very seriously, and assum- 
 ing in all their debatings that the question of his 
 candidature was settled. Altogether he spent a very 
 painful week, and when on Saturday evening, after a 
 final "flare up" with Wilky, he returned home he 
 was a weary, life-sick fellow. 
 
 As he approached his own dwelling, a bright, fluffy 
 head of hair, belonging, he well knew, to his sister 
 Lucy, appeared for a moment at the door and then 
 suddenly vanished, and John smiled to himself, for 
 it was clear she was on the look-out for him. 
 
 " Halt, sir ! " cried a voice, trying to speak in 
 tones of strong masculine command, but betrayed 
 by treacherous laughter-like waverings, as he opened 
 the door, and there on the hearth-rug stood his sister 
 in the traditional attitude of a tragedy queen, right 
 foot forward, long trailing dress (mother's), a coronet 
 made by twisting a feathery boa round her brows, 
 and a toasting-fork for sceptre.
 
 144 THE MINDER 
 
 ** What ho, varlet ! " she cried, threatening him 
 with her wand. " Where's thy hat ? " 
 
 John humorously uncovered, and bowed a Httle. 
 
 " Out, knave ! Dost bring thy mill manners here ? 
 'Tis the priest we want, and not the minder ! " 
 
 Smiling in spite of his heavy heart, John raised his 
 hat again, and made a profound reverence. 
 
 "Tis well ! Advance, and bend thy haughty knee ! " 
 
 John did as he was commanded, and with an air, 
 half disdain and half condescension, whilst her bright 
 eyes danced with fun, she laid her toasting-fork on 
 his head and bade him rise. 
 
 " Lucy, Lucy ! don't be giddy," said Mrs. Ledger; 
 but John could see that she also had some secret 
 source of gratification that was making her eyes 
 shine ; whilst Annie near the window was looking 
 on with something more than complacency. 
 
 " Your majesty has received tidings? " said John, 
 falling smilingly into the vein, and bowing once more. 
 
 " Tidings, my lord, the best ! " and striking a 
 fresh attitude, she went on with almost the only 
 Shakespearian quotation she knew — 
 
 " Now is the winter of our discontent 
 Made glorious summer by this — this daughter of Lancashire." 
 
 John shot at her a quick, inquiring glance, but he 
 would not spoil her little play. With another smile 
 and another bow, he said — 
 
 '* Your majesty's liege subjects grow impatient. 
 ' Good news is bettered by being shared.' " 
 
 " The queen " had some very unmajestic emotions 
 evidently, but checking herself and waving her 
 toasting-fork, she cried — 
 
 "Tell him, my Lady Annie; tell him, proud 
 dowager," and then breaking down and flinging 
 the sceptre unceremoniously away, she rushed at 
 him, and throwing her arms round his neck, she
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 145 
 
 kissed him impulsivel}^ and burst out, " Oh, John 
 John, I've got a situation ! " 
 
 John gave a start of dehght. She was seventeen 
 and pretty, and in some waj-s clever, and at great 
 sacrifice the family had conspired together to keep 
 her out of the mill. John wished her to be a teacher, 
 but she had proved helpless at figures and mathe- 
 matics, and that idea had to be abandoned, whilst 
 no other opening had as yet presented itself. She 
 was musical, but it would be a long time before she 
 could earn much, and they had no piano, and not 
 even a harmonium. Their father, in one of his fits 
 of pride and generosity, had obtained an instrument 
 on the hire system, but, as they saw no means of 
 paying for it, John and his mother had sent it back, 
 and neither father nor Lucy raised serious objection. 
 Lucy dragged her brother down into a chair, and 
 then, though she was nearly as tall as he, mounted 
 on his knee, and put her arms round his neck again. 
 " Now, who says that shorthand is no good for 
 girls?" she cried triumphantly, as she slid her slim 
 fingers between his neck and his collar and began 
 to tickle him. 
 
 "But 3-ou are not going to be a shorthand writer," 
 he said, catching at her hands. 
 
 " I'm going to be a shorthand writer, and I'm going 
 to have — guess how much, old never-hope ?" 
 
 "How much? Oh, half-a-crown a week," said 
 John teasingly. 
 
 " Fifteen shillings per week, and I commence on 
 Monday morning at Hays & Vickers' ; " and then 
 taking his hands in hers and looking earnestly down 
 into his deep eyes, she went on, " And guess who's 
 got me the place." 
 
 "Oh, Ferridge, or happen Flintop." John men- 
 tioned the two names that were most unpopular with 
 his women folk just then. 
 
 M, L
 
 146 THE MINDER 
 
 "John, you're horrid! Guess again!" and she 
 made a grab at his very youthful moustache. 
 
 John did as he was bidden, always selecting the 
 very unlikeliest names he could think of; but at last, 
 with almost absolute confidence, he named the little 
 broker and his wife. 
 
 " No, no ! " cried Lucy, with increasing delight. 
 "You couldn't guess if you tried all night and all 
 day to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, who is it, then ? " 
 
 " You'd never, never guess." 
 
 "Tell him ! tell him ! " cried " Mother," as eager 
 to see the effect upon John as he was to know. 
 
 " Sallie Wood ! " and she drew herself back to 
 watch his face. 
 
 She was more than satisfied with the effect pro- 
 duced, and too excited to note its exact character. 
 John gasped, the blood mounted into his face, he let 
 his eyes drop lest the tell-tale light should betray 
 him, and then began to secretly reproach himself for 
 thinking hard of Sallie. 
 
 Then Lucy poured out a torrent of delighted 
 explanations and details, and from these went off 
 to rosy prognostications of what they would do with 
 all their wealth when she got into full wages, for she 
 was only to have half-pay until she was thoroughly 
 proficient with the typewriter. The others joined 
 her, and John soon perceived that they regarded 
 this stroke of good luck all the more favourably 
 because it would remove one of the stumbling- 
 blocks out of his path. 
 
 Her wages would not be equal to his, but it was 
 evident that in their judgment they would be able to 
 live, even though he should leave them. It seemed 
 to John, however, that just when he was bringing 
 himself to look resignedly upon the dead body of his 
 love for Sallie, something had happened to give new
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 147 
 
 life to the corpse, and the occurrences of the next 
 day very greatly strengthened this feeling. 
 
 On the following night he was appointed to preach 
 at Whittle Green, about a mile and a half from 
 Bramwell, and half that distance beyond the resi- 
 dence of the Woods. His heart beat a little 
 quicker as he passed the farm, but he kept his 
 head down and trudged doggedly on with a sore 
 heart. 
 
 " You don't object to a solo, do you, Mr. John ? " 
 said the leading singer as they were consulting 
 together in the little vestry. 
 
 " Oh no ; I like them if they are appropriate." 
 
 " Thank you," and handing John the service sheet, 
 the leader took up his tune book and went into the 
 chapel, and the preacher, glancing absently at the 
 sheet, read, " Solo, Miss Sarah Wood." 
 
 Whittle Green was a sort of outpost of the Bram- 
 well Church, and was worked on mission lines. John 
 was not surprised, therefore, at the arrangement for 
 special singing ; but it was certainly a new thing for 
 Sallie to come out as a soloist. He announced her 
 all the same when the time came, and she stood up 
 there, supported by two fiddles and the harmonium, 
 and began to sing one of Sankey's less known hymns. 
 The choir sat immediately under the pulpit. Sallie 
 was on one side, and so John, who could not have 
 prevented himself watching her whatever had been 
 the consequence, only got her face in profile. Every- 
 thing she did pleased him. He liked the evident effort 
 it was costing her, he liked the song she had selected; 
 but most of all he was pleased to note that she was 
 not regarding the thing as a performance, and trying 
 to sing as well as she could, but was throwing herself 
 into the spirit of the service, and trying to make her 
 little effort an appeal in song. For the moment she 
 was a pleader, using the simple melody and her own 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE MINDER 
 
 fine voice to bring the Gospel message more closely 
 home to the hearts of her hearers, and as his 
 smothered love, thus helped, forced its way up 
 through suspicions and misgivings, she sank back 
 into her seat with a sudden return to self-conscious- 
 ness and modesty that drove the blood into her face 
 and a warm glow into John's heart. He couldn't 
 have believed it of her ; there was evidently a side to 
 her nature he did not understand. How little people 
 really understood each other, and how narrow it was 
 to expect everybody to show their religion in the 
 same way! 
 
 There was an unusually large congregation that 
 night, and some sort of " spirit of expectation " had 
 possession of the people. The news of what had 
 taken place on the previous Sunday had reached the 
 place and created the hope of similar results. John 
 noticed also that two or three of his last Sunday's 
 converts were present, and so he was not surprised 
 that, when the prayer-meeting came, there was what 
 Methodists call " another breakdown." In the joy 
 of his reward he forgot all about Sallie, and gave a 
 little start of surprise when, on entering the steward's 
 house, he found her seated at the table with a glass 
 of home-made lemonade in her hand. She had a 
 grave, spiritual sort of look, as though the quickening 
 influences of the service just concluded had raised 
 her altogether above ordinary affairs, and she listened 
 to a story the hostess was telling about one of the 
 converts with ardent attention. John had a glass of 
 milk, and as he sat with his hat on, ready to depart, 
 he began to feel that it was rather hard to have to 
 fight a battle with himself and force himself to stern 
 duty just when he felt most tender and sympathetic 
 toward all the world. Sallie and he would, of course, 
 go home together. It would be pleasant to have to 
 thank her for her kind interest in his sister, but he
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 149 
 
 had resolved that upon the very first opportunity 
 he would let her know that he was aware she had 
 another lover, and thus break the last link between 
 them. It was hard to have it to do at all, but it was 
 harder after the uplifting experiences of the night. 
 
 Sallie lingered over her lemonade, and even when 
 John rose to go she did not move. 
 
 " We go the same way, don't we, Miss Wood ? 
 May I have the pleasure ? " he said, at length, 
 fumbling nervously with his umbrella handle. 
 
 Sallie, still apparently engaged in conversation 
 with the hostess, turned quickly round with a look 
 of surprise and seeming reluctance. 
 
 " Oh, no, Mr. Ledger, don't wait for me. I'm near 
 home, you know." 
 
 John was surprised and a little self-rebuked. He 
 had not been able altogether to keep down the 
 suspicion that for some reason she had thrown 
 herself in his way that night ; but her words, and 
 her manner even more than her words, seemed to 
 show that he had once more been guilty of unworthy 
 thoughts about her. She might have given him up 
 definitely, and if so, she was acting in simplest con- 
 sistency with that fact. He hesitated. Flesh and 
 blood clamoured within him for a postponement of 
 the ordeal, but an inexorable instinct urged him on. 
 The more difficult the task the less reason for 
 deferring it. And as he stood there wavering, Sallie 
 looked at him again, and seemed reluctantly to give 
 way. 
 
 " Wilful man must have his way," she said with 
 playful resignation, and then she moved towards 
 John and the door. 
 
 The young preacher held open the garden gate for 
 her, and then stepped stiffly to her side, nerving him- 
 self to his difficult task. They had scarcely passed 
 the mission room, however, when Sallie snatched
 
 150 THE MINDER 
 
 impulsively at his arm, and clinging confidingly to it, 
 lifted an anxious little sigh, and began to talk with 
 nervous rapidity. 
 
 " Oh, John, I do wish I was a man and could 
 preach like you." 
 
 " You ! Why you preached better than I, to-night." 
 
 " For shame, John ! " And she gave his arm a 
 hasty shake, and then with a sudden plaintive cry 
 she went on, " Oh, I should like to do something to 
 make the world better ! " 
 
 John had several sharp stabs of self-reproach. 
 
 " Why, Sallie, you've done something to-night, 
 and you did something when you got Lucy that " 
 
 "John!" she interrupted, "do be serious. You 
 vex me, talking of such trumpery things, and all the 
 time you know I am bad." 
 
 "Bad, Sallie?" 
 
 " Yes, bad ! I'm a mean, mercenary, worldly girl, 
 John, and you know it," and she looked up into his 
 face with such innocent distress that John's heart 
 softened. The scene he had witnessed so recently in 
 that very lane came back to him, however, and he 
 did not know whether he ought to harden his heart 
 against her or rebuke himself for unjust suspicions. 
 As he hesitated, Sallie, who glanced searchingly up 
 at him once or twice, suddenly pulled up — 
 
 "John, now you're a preacher, how is it that I 
 sometimes feel more sinful than I did before I was 
 converted ? I feel sometimes full of desires to be 
 good and useful and devote myself to good things, 
 and then sometimes I'm so mean and selfish, and do 
 such hard, cruel things, that afterwards I can't bear 
 myself. How is it ? " 
 
 She was standing there on the footpath before him, 
 and looking up so seriously into his face whilst her 
 dark eyes shone with eager concern that John was 
 momentarily disarmed ; but the unspoken confession 
 
 I
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 15I 
 
 in the last few words struck on his ear with an 
 uncertain ring, and he held his breath and stood 
 gazing down upon her. She did not flinch. She 
 knew where her power lay, and John was so strangely 
 affected that he could do nothing but look into those 
 deep eyes. The impulse to snatch her in his arms 
 was well-nigh irresistible. But its strength was his 
 salvation. He instinctively suspected anything he 
 found his whole nature clamouring for, and so he 
 checked himself, sighed, and then hedged off into a 
 theological explanation of the condition she had 
 described. She listened with the same serious atten- 
 tion, looking steadily into his face and nodding com- 
 prehendingly, as he passed from point to point ; but 
 a more suspicious person might have noticed that 
 her eyes wandered a little, and she seemed to be 
 studying him rather than his words. 
 
 " I see, I see," she murmured musingly as he 
 finished, and then she took his arm again, and they 
 began to move along the lane once more. They 
 walked in silence for a minute or two, and he was 
 just choosing his words for the question that lay 
 nearest his heart, when she resumed : " John, do you 
 think I should ever be good enough to be a sister ? " 
 
 " A sister ? " 
 
 " Yes, to work amongst the poor. There's only 
 father and I, you know, and when he's gone I should 
 like to do something of that sort, only — only I'm not 
 good enough." 
 
 " But, SaUie " 
 
 ** Yes, I know. You think I'm not good enough, 
 too," and it was not resentment he found in her 
 tones, but humble, regretful tears. 
 
 " But, Sallie, I thought you were of the marrying 
 sort ? " 
 
 " John ! How can you — after to-night ? " 
 
 John had the feeling that he was the worldly one
 
 152 THE MINDER 
 
 now. It was no matter, though. He had one 
 thought in his mind, and one only. He had felt 
 much of the spiritual upliftedness that was evidently 
 governing Sallie's words; but everything disappeared 
 before the struggles and suspenses of tortured love. 
 He could not live in that state ; he must end it one 
 way or the other ; and so, conscious that he was 
 doing an almost brutal thing, he blurted out — 
 
 " Sallie, who is your lover now? " 
 
 " John ! " She seemed angry, and hastily with- 
 drew her hand, though her quick eyes narrowly 
 scanned his face. " Oh, John, I've done with those 
 things now. They seemed sinful since — since — you 
 know when." 
 
 They had reached the gate of the farm by this 
 time, and she turned her head away to hide her 
 emotions. 
 
 " But, Sallie, I " 
 
 " No, John, no ! I'm going to live for better 
 things. Pray for me, John ! " and she held her hand 
 up to keep him away, and leaned sorrowfully on the 
 
 John was still fighting down his suspicions, and 
 her last words did not help him. He drew nearer to 
 her; but before he could speak she pushed him 
 gently away. 
 
 " The world is so full of suffering and sorrow. 
 Those who ought to go and help will not, so somebody 
 must do it." 
 
 He saw exactly what she meant. Oh, if only he 
 could have believed her capable of sentiments such 
 as these, but the other thought was still tormenting 
 him, and he must get to the bottom of it. 
 
 " How long have you felt like that, Sallie ? " 
 
 " Often, lately, especially since I — since you — but 
 I'm fully determined, after to-night," and then, as if 
 by a sudden irresistible impulse, she stepped up to
 
 SALLIE TURNS THE TABLES 153 
 
 him a^ain, and lifting her eyes, soft with tears, to his, 
 she said — 
 
 " You'll pray for me, John, won't you ? " 
 It was too much. Suspicion, fear, pride, curiosity 
 as to her real feeling, all melted away. The love that 
 was in him, increased by stern repression, rose with 
 a sudden overwhelming flood, his arms were thrown 
 around her, and in another moment he was raining 
 kisses upon her teary face.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 
 
 " Jack ! Heigh, Jack ! here ! " 
 
 John, who was returning from the mill one 
 blustery October evening, turned round and saw 
 Jim Flintop, an old schoolmate, hurrying after him. 
 Jim was the son of the man who had started the 
 charge of plagiarism against him, and who, in spite 
 of the second minister's persistent efforts, still stuck 
 to his text. 
 
 " Hello, Jim ! what's up ? " 
 
 Jim was a big, red-haired, red-cheeked fellow, of 
 fiery disposition, and he now came fiercely up to 
 John, and grabbing at the lappel of his greasy mill 
 jacket, demanded — 
 
 " Is it true as thou'rt on wi' Sallie Wood again ? " 
 
 "Ay, what by that ? " 
 
 " An' would thou tackle her again after she'd 
 squashed thee once afore ? " 
 
 " Who says she did squash me ? " and John's 
 choler began to rise. 
 
 " Who ! she told me so herself." 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 " She — told — me — so — herself, she took me on — 
 softy as I was — when she squelched thee, an' she 
 told me all about it, an' now she thinks thou'rt goin' 
 to be a parson, she chucks me, and takes up wi' thee 
 
 again, Jack ! she's a " but Jim could find no 
 
 name strong enough.
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 155 
 
 John was very angry, and also uneasy. 
 
 "Jim, thou'rt mad ! I know that girl, and nobody 
 shall speak of her like that." 
 
 " But, man ! it's true ! She daddled me about for 
 months ; she was keener on it than I was myself, 
 but after thou'd preached at t' chapel she chucked 
 me away like a sucked orange." 
 
 John was dumb with confusion and resentment ; 
 all his heart rose in defence of Sallie ; everybody was 
 against her, surely he must defend her. If only he 
 could stifle — but he would ! He would stand by her 
 against them all. 
 
 "Jim," he said, speaking almost as fiercely as the 
 other, " Sallie Wood is mine, and neither you nor 
 anybody else shall say a word against her." 
 
 "Sha'n'tl? Well, I'll show thee ! Look! I'll 
 have her. I'll have her to spite thee, and when I do 
 get her, by the Lord I'll make her smart for it." 
 
 Jim was foaming at the mouth with fury, and did 
 not perceive that he was betraying himself and easing 
 John's mind. 
 
 " Thee ! " he went on, " thee take her from me ! 
 Try it on, and I'll knock thee into sausage-meat." 
 
 But John saw that Jim's language was too strong 
 to be taken seriously, and that he need care no more 
 for his information than he did for his threats, and 
 so got away as soon as he could, although it was 
 some time before he recovered his self-possession. 
 It was Jim, then, with whom he had seen Sallie on 
 that sad Friday night ; well, she had evidently never 
 cared much about him, so he fought down this con- 
 firmation of his own misgivings, and resolved to trust 
 his sweetheart. He kept in that mind all night, and 
 did not even mention the circumstance to Sallie 
 when he saw her later ; but next day at his work his 
 doubts and fears back came with most distressing 
 persistence, and so, for some time, he was torn with
 
 156 THE MINDER 
 
 conflicting hopes and fears. His visits to the farm 
 were times of unalloyed delight, but his days, as he 
 paced barefooted after his wheels, were periods of 
 racking misgivings. And so the days slipped by, 
 Christmas drew near, household prospects looked 
 brighter than he had ever known them, his mother 
 had a wistful sort of hopefulness about her which 
 gave him the keenest satisfaction, and but that the 
 question of all questions remained unsettled he would 
 have been contented. He had never named Jim 
 Flintop to Sallie, and as he knew that his rival was 
 still pursuing her with his attentions, he was per- 
 plexed to know why she never alluded to the matter. 
 But he was weary of harassing suspicions, and 
 ashamed to pay court to a girl and think evil of her. 
 He ought to trust her, and as he had a considerable 
 fund of trustfulness he did not find it very difficult. 
 And so the time sped along, and from hints he 
 received John began to be in daily fear of a summons 
 to see the super., his uneasiness being considerably 
 increased by the knowledge that if he had to offer 
 for the ministry it was high time he made definite 
 preparations. 
 
 The super, had told Wilky that he intended to give 
 John an appointment at the town chapel on the new 
 plan, so that those who would have to vote at the 
 Quarterly meeting might know what they were doing. 
 This set the little broker on pins, and he fell upon 
 John so fiercely whenever they met that he began to 
 avoid him, and dropped his frequent visits to the 
 furniture shop. On the Sunday of Christmas week 
 John was appointed at Sneldridge for the afternoon 
 service, and Wilky at night ; and John's father 
 brought word that the broker would like John to 
 stay for the evening service and walk home with 
 him. 
 
 John did not like the prospect ; he guessed that it 
 
 I
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 157 
 
 would mean an unusually prolonged and, perhaps, 
 heated discussion on the ever-present topic of his 
 call, and it would also interfere with courting 
 arrangements, but as he could not easily refuse 
 his old master, he waited and heard him preach. 
 To John's amazement Wilky commenced what 
 turned out to be a strikingly original sermon on the 
 parable of the sower. Ignoring all rules of inter- 
 pretation, and looking as far away from his young 
 friend as he could, the preacher opened with the 
 startling question, " What would have happened if 
 the sower had * funked ' the job, or gone to sleep, or 
 sat down and read the newspaper, or gone courting, 
 or spent his time making dolls and tin trumpets for 
 the children ? There were people like that ; they 
 looked after themselves, or their wives, or their 
 sweethearts, whilst the work of the Lord was spoil- 
 ing ; they sat there" — and here Wilky had a great 
 inspiration — "sqawkin' on a fiddle whilst Rome 
 was burning ; the fields were white unto the harvest, 
 but the labourers were few." 
 
 But this was only the exordium. Carefully avoid- 
 ing John's eye, Wilky discussed the seed, which was 
 all it should be, and the ground, which was of 
 different kinds — and here he gave astonishingly clear 
 descriptions of the soil and the truths embodied in 
 the figure — " But what was seed or soil or anything 
 else if there was no sower ? Pray ye the Lord of 
 the harvest," &c. 
 
 John listened to this amazing distortion of the 
 Scriptures with mingled feelings ; he saw, of course, 
 the all too palpable moral, and was shocked and a 
 little grieved at the whole affair. To his relief 
 Wilky never alluded to the sermon on their way 
 home ; but as they were parting, he looked with a 
 comical seriousness at his young companion, and 
 said, sententiously, " Faithful are the wounds of a
 
 158 THE MINDER 
 
 friend," and then he turned and dashed off homewards 
 in a most violent hurry. 
 
 But even these extraordinary efforts, Wilky dis- 
 covered, produced no effect upon the obdurate John, 
 and as he now avoided him more than ever he 
 adopted other means of reaching him. Whenever 
 he thought it probable that the young minder would 
 be at home he would trot off down to the little cake 
 shop, open the door hastily, bawl out, " Whom shall 
 I send, and who will go for us ? " or " Woe is me if 
 I preach not the gospel," or '* Demas hath forsaken 
 me, having loved this present world," or some such 
 passage ; bang the door, and hurry away as fast as 
 his diminutive legs would carry him. 
 
 As this produced no effect, he changed his tactics, 
 and when John came home one night from his work, 
 he found a letter waiting for him. He did not 
 recognise the handwriting, but opening the envelope 
 he discovered a packet that looked like a long, care- 
 fully folded epistle. He removed the outer cover, 
 and found a sheet of blank paper, then an inside 
 sheet, then another, and at last he came to a bit of 
 not too clean cardboard, upon which was written in 
 drunken Roman capitals — 
 
 Isaiah vi. 8. 
 
 This was followed two days later by a similar 
 consignment, containing 
 
 Luke ix. 62 ; 
 
 and a week later it was a gentler but still urgent 
 sentence — 
 
 Joshua vii. 10, 
 
 followed the very next post by 
 
 Matthew xxviii. ig.
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 159 
 
 John smiled again and again as he received these 
 messages, but his mother took them seriously, and 
 arranged them in a row on the mantel piece of his 
 little bedroom. Then the mysterious missives 
 suddenly ceased, but one evening, when John 
 reached home, he found a message awaiting him 
 to the effect that Mrs. Drax wanted to see him. 
 She was such a dainty person that John always 
 thought it necessary to change his clothes before 
 he went into her room, so that it was seven o'clock 
 before he answered the summons. 
 
 " Come in, John, I'm glad to see you Wilky, 
 
 you mustn't go. Come here ! " 
 
 The broker gave a surly grunt as John entered, 
 and was making for the door, but at his wife's com- 
 mand he waddled back to a chair, and sat down in a 
 tentative ready-to-go sort of attitude. John uttered 
 the usual civilities, and then there was an awkward 
 pause. 
 
 " John," said Mrs. Drax, gently, " what am I to 
 do with this awkward man of mine ? He's nearly 
 worrying my life out about you." 
 
 " Me, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Me ? Me ? " cried Wilky. " Well, that's a 
 corker ? What next ? Me bother about hi7n ; he 
 can go to t' land o' green ginger for me." 
 
 Mrs. Drax and John smiled at each other, as the 
 little man blew off steam, and then closing her eyes 
 to think, the good woman went on, with a grave 
 look — 
 
 " We are all hoping about you, John — and — 
 praying." 
 
 Wilky snorted to signify that he particularly 
 insisted on not being included in this statement. 
 
 " You are very kind, ma'am, but I wish you 
 wouldn't." 
 
 " Not pray, John ? "
 
 i6o THE MINDER 
 
 " Course not ! What's prayer ? We don't need 
 nobody to pray for us ! We're hinfallible, we are," 
 and the broker laughed a cynical, contemptuous laugh. 
 
 " I hope you will always pray for me, ma'am, 
 but I do wish you would not think about the 
 other." 
 
 " But that's what we pray about, John." 
 
 John sighed, and shook his head slowly; presently 
 Mrs. Drax asked — 
 
 " Is it still the old difftculty, John ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I get no nearer ; I have no call." 
 
 " But the Church is calling you, and the fruit you 
 have had is surely a call ? " 
 
 " But I want the call of God, ma'am." 
 
 " T-h-a-t-'s i-t ! " and Wilky snatched at one of 
 his wife's antimacassars, which had caught on his 
 coat buttons, and sending it flying across the room, 
 he ripped out, " He's a nonsuch, he's not goin' to be 
 called like the common riff-raff. He mun have a 
 miracle ! He wants a depytation o' cherybims to 
 call him ! T' Almighty mun get down off His throne 
 an' come an' ax him if he'll kindly oblige — that's wot 
 he wants." 
 
 Mrs. Drax waited with closed eyes until Wilky 's 
 scornful wrath had spent itself, and then went on — 
 
 " But you would go, John, if the Church called 
 you ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Drax," cried John,- with tremulous vehe- 
 mence, " if there was only one poor sinner left in the 
 world, I'd go to the deadliest climate or the foulest 
 fever den on earth to reach that soul, if only my 
 Master said one little word." 
 
 Something very like a smothered sob came from 
 the direction of Wilky's chair, but it was covered 
 under a violent succession of snorts and grunts and 
 scrapings of throat. Mrs. Drax waited a moment, 
 evidently not very sure of her voice, and then just
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT i6i 
 
 as she was commencing to speak, Wilky's chair flew 
 back, and they heard him say, in husky tones — 
 
 " Let us pray ! " 
 
 John dropped upon his knees with a full heart, 
 and was just murmuring, " Lord help," when Wilky 
 said in low tones — 
 
 ** Sister Drax, will you pray ? " 
 
 She was lying on the sofa as usual, but she took 
 her hands from her face, and in low pleading tones 
 that vibrated through John's soul she commenced to 
 pray. Tenderly, humbly, she pleaded that their dear 
 friend might be guided and strengthened and re- 
 warded for all he had done for his dear mother. A 
 perfect woman's prayer it was, and John shook with 
 emotion. She finished at last, and he was just rising 
 to his feet when the rough little broker commenced 
 in strangely tender tones — 
 
 " O, Lord, Thou 's given us everything ; Thou 
 's given us Thy Son, an' we've nowt we can give 
 Thee ; but we want to give Thee this dear lad of ours. 
 He's a lot to — to sister Drax an' me, an' more to his 
 mother, an' that's why we want to give him to Thee. 
 Take him. Lord ! Call him. Lord ! Make him a 
 good soul-winner. An' oh. Lord, above all things 
 make him a good lad. He doesn't want no glory, 
 no popperlarity. He wants to hear Thy voice behind 
 him. Speak, Lord ! Speak soon ! Speak now ! for 
 Thy name's sake, Amen." 
 
 Wilky looked very abashed and confused as he 
 rose to his feet, and as John, overcome with emotion, 
 remained as he was, Wilky was glad to respond to the 
 knocking which had been going on for some time in 
 the shop below ; and when a few minutes later, after 
 having promised Mrs. Drax that he would do nothing 
 hastily, John went downstairs, he found the little 
 broker stormily thrusting a woman out of the shop, 
 and trying to cover up the fact that he was taking 
 
 M. M
 
 i62 THE MINDER 
 
 no payment for the brush she wanted, under volleys 
 of his shot-like raillery. 
 
 A few days later, when John returned from his 
 class-meeting, he found a note from the super, await- 
 ing him. It was the long dreaded summons to an 
 interview on the following Friday evening, and as 
 he shyly slipped it into his pocket, Lucy challenged 
 him to tell them the contents. 
 
 When he smiled and shook his head, she declared 
 she could guess, and for the next hour she and Annie 
 and Sallie, who just then turned up, assailed him with 
 all sorts of reasons in favour of immediate decision, 
 and though he bantered them and laughed at them, 
 and then most riskily tried serious argument with 
 them, they triumphed lightly over everything he 
 could advance, and deftly turned his own weapons 
 against him. His mother as usual supported him, 
 but when they ceased, she surprised them all "by 
 heaving a heavy sigh and murmuring — 
 
 " It's no bantering matter this, it's a heart breaker." 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 " It is ! " she cried almost fiercely, and then 
 suddenly melting, she went on, turning appealingly to 
 her son, " Johnny, when first I felt thy little mouth 
 snugglin' against my breast it comforted a breaking 
 heart ; thou's been my one comfort and hope ever 
 sin', but oh ! I'm sore to my very soul just now." 
 
 " But, mother," he cried in keen distress, and then 
 hesitating and looking anxiously at her, he went on, 
 " Mother, hearken ! I'm more eager now to go than 
 you are to send me ; I'll go just now if you'll prove 
 to me that I am called, but I've not got the educa- 
 tion, I've not got the gifts, and above all I've not 
 got the call ; let God give me a call Himself, clear in 
 my own heart, and I'll go to the end of the world." 
 
 " None are so deaf as those who won't hear." 
 
 John was cut up ; such a word from the mother he
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 163 
 
 worshipped he never expected to hear, and so 
 oppressed by constant harassing and goaded to reck- 
 lessness by this last stinging lash he jumped to his 
 feet and cried hotly — 
 
 *' Mother, you don't trust me ! You think I could 
 decide if I would. You shall decide for me ! Say one 
 word, just one word, and I'll go to the super, now." 
 
 Mrs. Ledger, pale and agitated, and full of quick re- 
 morse for her last and most unusual words, stood leaning 
 against the mantelpiece and looking dreely into the fire. 
 
 " Thou will ? " she cried, looking wonderingly and 
 a little fearfully at him. 
 
 " I will, mother." But though his words had reso- 
 lution enough in them he was bitterly repenting that 
 he had used them. 
 
 His mother still peered broodingly into the fire, 
 and once or twice half turned as if about to speak, 
 but her eyes wandered back to the hot coals and she 
 still seemed to hesitate. It was an awful moment for 
 her ; the one ambition of her life might apparently 
 be realised by a word. She was a long time before 
 she spoke, but at last she moved slowly to his side, 
 put her hard hand on his head, and softly stroked it. 
 
 " John, my dear, thou'rt a better Christian than thy 
 mother. Go thy own way ; thy mother has led thee 
 all these years, but now she'll be glad to follow. The 
 Lord be with thee, lad; the Lord's Will be done." 
 
 It was a long speech for the silent, long-suffering 
 woman, and John greatly marvelled at it, and from 
 that hour not even Sallie herself was allowed to raise 
 the question in that house. 
 
 All the same John was perfectly aware that the 
 coming of the super.'s letter was the beginning of 
 the great crisis ; the battle had commenced, and 
 though body and brain and heart were alike weary, 
 he knew there could be no more rest for him until 
 the great question was settled. Oh, what should he 
 
 M 2
 
 i64 THE MINDER 
 
 do ? Pray ? His whole life in those days was one 
 long drawn out supplication, from the brief ejacula- 
 tion of the moment, as he paced after his approaching 
 and receding wheels at the mill, to the wearily drawn 
 out night wrestlings that seemed to be sapping his 
 strength. He had a feeling, too, that this incessant 
 assailing of the Divine ear was a sort of cowardice ; 
 he was asking God to do what, in the very nature 
 of the case, he could not do. He saw more clearly 
 every hour that it was not merely a question as to 
 his future, it was the supreme test of his life, and 
 it was of the very essence of that test that, like his 
 Divine Master, he should be left to conquer or fail 
 alone. Again and again he faced it, and again and 
 again he felt that the only thing he could do was 
 to do nothing. *' When you are uncertain what to 
 do, do nothing," he remembered, had been a favourite 
 phrase of a very, judicious minister whose memory 
 he greatly revered ; but in his case such a course 
 seemed to be only a shirking of the responsibility of 
 his manhood. It was idle to ignore the fact that 
 he knew quite well that if he did nothing, that, in 
 his circumstances, would be to do everything, and 
 his candidature would go on. Oh, if he could only 
 have trusted himself, but the whole difficulty lay just 
 there ; he had been taught all his religious life to 
 distrust above all things his own nature, and he 
 wanted to be a minister. His whole being was filled 
 with a great ambition ; was not this the very best 
 reason for not doing it ? And when he had reasoned 
 himself round to this veritable cul-de-sac for perhaps 
 the fiftieth time, a feeling of utter helplessness came 
 over him. The thing was too great for him, the 
 fact that he was not equal to the settlement of the 
 question was the best possible proof that he was 
 not equal to the work involved. Was not the thing 
 too great and grave to settle alone ? Was not this
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 165 
 
 one of those rare occasions when man's unaided 
 reason was insufficient ? Might he not therefore 
 appeal to God ? Had not God in such cases 
 condescended to human infirmity, and when there 
 had been an honest purpose to do God's Will if 
 it could be ascertained, had not God deigned to give 
 some sign ? 
 
 He was fighting his battle out over his work when 
 his thoughts first took this particular shape. His 
 employment was of a monotonous and mechanical 
 character, and his mind, therefore, was fairly free to 
 think. Dressed in the scanty clothing which the 
 heat necessary for the manufacture of the cotton 
 prescribed, and following first one wheel and then 
 another, piecing an "end" up here, cleaning a roller 
 and putting in a new roving bobbin there, he went over 
 and over again the same dreary mental processes. 
 Oh, that God would give him some indication of His 
 Will, His very slightest would be sufficient ! Then 
 he remembered having heard in class meetings and 
 lovefeasts the stories told by fellow members of how, 
 in great perplexity, God had suddenly and unmis- 
 takably revealed His Will to them. They had 
 seemed far-fetched, credulous, and even supersti- 
 tious tales to him then ; but, oh, what would he 
 give for some such leading now ! He had always 
 held the doctrine of particular Providence somewhat 
 loosely, and with much modern reserve, but he 
 would have been glad to believe it now. But his 
 inability to get help in this way was, of course, one 
 of the regular penalties of unbelief, he told himself. 
 Then an idea occurred to him ; some of the best of 
 the old men he knew had a curious way of getting 
 rid of perplexities. When they had come to a 
 standstill and knew not where to turn, he had heard 
 them tell how they had taken the Bible in their 
 hands and had prayed, and then opened the book
 
 i66 THE MINDER 
 
 haphazard, and had cast their eyes on texts which 
 had solved all their troubles at once. 
 
 It was a small thing to do, there could be no harm — 
 No ! it was for him, at any rate, a cowardly shirking 
 of his responsibility. And yet what was he to do ? 
 
 There was a little pile of cop skips standing 
 against the iron pillar in the middle of the wheel- 
 alley, and in the bottom skip he always kept a little 
 Bible ; he paused a moment, then made a dart at 
 the skip, pulled himself up suddenly with something 
 very like a shudder, and turned away after a broken 
 " end." A few minutes later, however, he drew 
 near to the skip again, and again passed it by. At 
 last, however, with a fretful little sigh, he put his 
 hand into the bottom skip and pulled out his Bible. 
 His hand shook as he held the volume, and he 
 took a nervous glance around as if afraid of being 
 observed ; then he laid the book on the cops and 
 allowed it to fall open where it would. He dare 
 not look, however, but followed the receding mule ; 
 but when it had finished its upward journey, and 
 was returning, he left it and went and bent over the 
 book once more. It lay open plainly enough, there 
 could be no mistake; he took another frightened 
 glance about him, and then examined the page. It 
 was the first chapter in I. Chronicles, a mere record 
 of names, and he turned away with a sick heart. 
 For ten minutes more he paced about the oily floor, 
 and at last persuading himself that this might be 
 a trial of his faith, he closed the volume again and 
 allowed it to fall open where it would. He did not 
 look at it at once, but went on with his work ; but 
 presently, with a little gesture of impatience, he 
 consulted the oracle once more. It was the fifteenth 
 of I. Corinthians, the great chapter on the Resur- 
 rection. A bitter smile rose to his lips, there was 
 nothing there that bore in the least upon his case,
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 167 
 
 and God was showing him very clearly that he 
 was not to be allowed to evade his own respon- 
 sibility. Half an hour later, after many inward 
 debatings, he reminded himself of the old local 
 saying. " The third time pays for all." He had very 
 little hope now, but a shock went through him as 
 he noted that the page now before him had upon it a 
 passage that was underscored. He never marked his 
 own Bible, he rather despised the practice. Who 
 could have done it ? He scarcely supposed it could 
 have been done by supernatural fingers, but he was 
 in a state now to accept anything, and so he bent 
 shyly and fearfully over the text and read, " These 
 shall go away into everlasting punishment," &c. ; 
 and then he remembered that he had marked that 
 particular text when preparing for his local preacher's 
 examination. It was no use ; God had absolutely 
 refused to release him ; it was not merely a decision 
 he had to make, it was the test of his character and 
 obedience, and he turned sadly away to his work. 
 
 A few minutes later, he noticed that it was close 
 upon dinner time. Thursday was cleaning day, and 
 as some of the machinery could only be cleansed 
 standing, it was usually done in the dinner-hour, 
 and the noon-tide meal had to be taken on the 
 premises. John sighed again as he remembered this, 
 for he wanted time to think and pray, but every- 
 thing seemed to be against him. As the shafting 
 overhead gave its characteristic groan and began to 
 slacken, his mother appeared at the end of his wheel- 
 alley ; but as he was attending at that moment to 
 the wheel-head, ^nd could not leave, she put down 
 the basket against the end wall, and lifted up a letter 
 and waved it, and placed in on the basket lid. It 
 was some minutes before he could get to open the 
 missive, which somehow set his heart beating. The 
 handwriting, however, relieved him ; it was only
 
 i68 THE MINDER 
 
 another of Wilky's mysterious communications ; so 
 he put it down unopened and finished his cleaning. 
 He had only ten minutes for his meal when he was 
 able to get to it, and so the note lay neglected until 
 work had been resumed, and the loud hum of the 
 spindles told that all was going smoothly. Then he 
 took out the letter and opened it with a pensive 
 smile. There was a change in Wilky's manner ; the 
 texts were all written out this time, and there were 
 several of them. 'Expressing in their mute way 
 Wilky's anxiety, the texts touched John, and he began 
 to read them with dimmed eyes; but when he had gone 
 over them the second time, and the full force of their 
 significance became clear, he gave a little gasp of 
 surprise. It looked as though Wilky knew what he 
 had been thinking about and doing all that morning ; 
 it was certainly a striking coincidence. Then he 
 observed that the texts had a sort of order about 
 them, and that one word in each selection was 
 doubly underscored. He spread the sheet on the top 
 of the cop skip, picked up an oil-can, and oiled a 
 screaming spindle, and then hastening back, he read — 
 
 " They cast pur, that is, the lot." — Esther iii. 7. 
 
 " The lot is cast into the lap ; but the whole 
 disposing thereof is of the Lord." — Proverbs xvi. 33. 
 
 " The /o^ causeth contentions to cease . . . " — 
 Proverbs xviii. 18. 
 
 " And they gave forth their lots ; and the lot fell 
 upon Matthias ; and he was numbered with the 
 eleven Apostles." — Acts i. 26. 
 
 All the above were written out in crabby, ill- 
 shaped capitals, but underneath, as a sort of after- 
 thought, there was scribbled — 
 
 " Not mine, not mine the choice 
 In things or great or small : 
 Be Thou my guide, my strength, 
 My wisdom and my all."
 
 THE CASTING OF THE LOT 169 
 
 Late that night, two persons might have been 
 seen sitting close to the table in the broker's back 
 room, John and his former master. Wilky's bushy 
 brows were drawn together, his bristly whiskers 
 stood out, and his whole face betrayed keenest 
 anxiety. John had put the fantastic idea from him 
 in the mill, but as this was the last night before the 
 great decision, Wilky had captured him on his way 
 home, and had kept him there without food and 
 with a splitting headache, trying to convince him 
 of the wisdom of adopting the plan suggested. 
 
 For over two hours they had been arguing, and at 
 length John, as much to get away from his tempter 
 as with any faith in the result, had allowed himself 
 to be persuaded into the experiment, stipulating, 
 however, that there should be a blank slip of paper 
 as well as the "yes" and "no." Wilky had protested 
 that this gave an unfair proportion of chances against 
 " yes," but after twenty minutes' wrangling he was 
 fain to yield, and held out a stumpy fist, from the 
 top of which three tags of tape-shaped paper pro- 
 jected. John put out his hand to draw, but as he 
 touched the papers Wilky drew back his hand, and 
 protested once more that it wasn't fair ; John, secretly 
 hoping that his obstinancy would provoke Wilky into 
 abandoning the experiment, stuck to his point. 
 
 At last, however, irritable through overstrained 
 excitement, Wilky gave way, and thrust the tags of 
 paper once more under John's nose. He sprang 
 back as if he had been attacked by a serpent, and 
 then turned away and stoutly declared that nothing 
 should ever induce him to do such a thing. Wilky, 
 nearly beside himself, stormed, and coaxed, and 
 argued, and at length John drew near again. He 
 held his hand behind him, fearful apparently of its 
 betraying him ; he looked at the stumpy fist and 
 the three ends of paper until they began to fascinate
 
 I70 THE MINDER 
 
 him ; he sighed heavily and shrank back, and Wilky, 
 tortured with suspense, jerked out — 
 
 " Draw, man ! draw ! " 
 
 John sprang away again as though he had been 
 shot, and cried piteously — 
 
 *'No, no!" 
 
 Wilky called him a coward and a shuffler, and 
 with fierce gleaming eyes accused him of trifling. 
 
 John approached once more and put out his hand, 
 and Wilky with drawn face and wild stare pushed 
 the slips forward and looked at John. 
 
 " Lord forgive me," cried John, and shut his eyes 
 tight. 
 
 " Draw ! " cried Wilky, with a cry that was almost 
 a hiss. John with a sudden deadly calmness drew 
 one of the tags, and shutting his eyes averted his 
 face and held out the drawn lot for Wilky to examine. 
 
 " It's a judgment," he wailed piteously, as he sank 
 back into his chair. 
 
 John had drawn the blank.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 The young minder's condition as he left the 
 furniture shop that night was one of utter wretched- 
 ness ; to racking perplexities that were almost 
 unendurable he had added a deep sense of humilia- 
 tion, he had been tampering with the occult, he had 
 been playing the game of Korah, he had reduced 
 himself to king Saul's helpless distraction and had 
 resorted like him to a witch-of-Endor-like means of 
 escape. But God had been merciful, and had not 
 answered him at all. Racked and overstrained 
 until his brains seemed to boil, and the very roots of 
 his hair creep, he still saw everything with almost 
 preternatural clearness, and the various phases of the 
 great problem were startlingly vivid as he looked at 
 them. He had never seen so clearly or penetrated 
 so deeply into the very heart of things as he seemed 
 to do just then, and the inexorable conclusion had 
 never before appeared so remorselessly irresistible. 
 Men who were making sacrifice to enter the ministry 
 might volunteer properly enough, but to one to 
 whom it would be a great social lift, the only right 
 thing was to wait until the call came. He wanted to be 
 a minister, his whole nature seemed to rise clamor- 
 ously to the chance offered, and that was the clearest 
 possible evidence that it was only a disguised earthly 
 ambition, and must be ruthlessly trampled down. 
 No, in his case, nothing but the plainest and most
 
 172 THE MINDER 
 
 indubitable indication of the Divine will could justify 
 him in making the offer, and such an indication he 
 had certainly never yet had. His friends, his mother, 
 his sweetheart, were all so many unconscious instru- 
 ments of temptation. The tempter was spreading 
 before him " the kingdoms of this world and the 
 glory thereof," and if he wanted to save his soul 
 alive, he must cry, " Get thee behind me, Satan." He 
 walked about for a full hour before returning home, 
 and the anxious looks cast upon him as he entered 
 the house became more serious when he declined 
 food and almost immediately hastened upstairs to 
 his own room. But nature at last began to assert 
 herself; the walk in the open air had brought the 
 blood from his brain and cooled him, and though 
 conscious that he was settling into dull heavy despair 
 he noted his condition almost gratefully. He had 
 intended to spend the night in prayer, but his utter 
 exhaustion took all desire away, nature refused to be 
 pushed a single point further, and with a groan of 
 self-abandonment he threw himself, dressed as he 
 was, on the bed. Half an hour later, when his 
 mother, distressed at the look he had worn, and the 
 fact that he had gone to bed without supper, stole 
 quietly into the room with a glass of milk, she found 
 him fast asleep. The signs of recent suffering on his 
 face wrung her heart, but she smiled with pensive 
 thankfulness at the soundness of his slumbers, and 
 setting the glass down, and drawing the bed-clothes 
 gently over him, she stood hovering at his side like a 
 wistful guardian angel. For several minutes she 
 brooded over him, now bending down and looking 
 intently into the beloved features, and now clasping 
 her hands and turning up her face towards the dim 
 ceiling, in rapt supplication. Then she moved the 
 candle to the little table and dropped upon her knees 
 at the side of the bed, and the prayer which sheer
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 173 
 
 exhaustion had intermitted was thus vicariously 
 offered over the wearied sleeper. For one long hour 
 the wrestling woman urged her petition, now groping 
 in the air as if she were snatching at the garments 
 of the Invisible, and now smiling in the passionate 
 persuasiveness that disdained refusal. Then she 
 stopped, and buried her bowed head in her hands, 
 lifted a long pathetic sigh, and murmured through 
 tear-wet fingers — 
 
 " Nevertheless not as I will — nor as he will." 
 
 The sleeper had not moved, but when she rose to 
 her feet the anxious mother persuaded herself that 
 there was a soft smile on the unconscious face, and 
 so she turned away and stepped quietly out of the 
 room and closed the door. Never a wink did this 
 devoted woman sleep that night, and as soon as the 
 hot coffee stall had rumbled past to its post in the 
 market place, and the clac, clac of the clogs began to 
 sound in the street, she was up, preparing John's 
 morning cup of tea. Twice she went to the foot of 
 the stairs to hear if he were stirring, but not the 
 slightest sound could she catch. 
 
 "Well," and she drew in her lips with a painful 
 twitch, " he shall sleep as long as he can, if he loses 
 a quarter." 
 
 Again she listened. Oh that he would come and 
 set her beating heart at rest ! Ah, that was his 
 door, and she, who was dying for a sight of his face, 
 fled from the stairfoot in sudden fright. He was 
 coming downstairs in his stocking feet as usual. He 
 would not need to speak, one single glance at his 
 face would tell her all. With strained intensity, she 
 counted every step, and stared with hungry eyes at 
 the staircase in the corner. He was coming ! he was 
 here — and in a sudden collapse of courage she 
 turned away and ran into the pantry. Breathless 
 and panting she stood there in the darkness.
 
 174 'THE MINDER 
 
 expecting, yet dreading that he would speak ; but 
 as he did not she ventured out again, but went 
 round the tables to avoid him and kept her face 
 carefully averted. Would he never speak ! Then 
 she took from the sideboard his breakfast-can, and 
 began to fumble with the little screwed up parcels 
 of tea and sugar, and as she did so, she presently 
 ventured to raise her eyes and look at him. But 
 John's face was averted now, and he studiously held 
 down his head. But there was something surely 
 gleaming from under those overshadowing brows, 
 her heart suddenly began to melt ; she dropped 
 the can on the floor and cried in sharp distress — 
 
 "John!" 
 
 John's head dropped lower. 
 
 " John ! John ! Look at me ! " 
 
 Yes, it was there. The face was white and solemn, 
 and dark rings were under the brows, but the eyes ! 
 the eyes were burning with glory, glory enhanced and 
 made infinitely solemn by a mysterious veil of self- 
 conscious holy shame. A great awe fell upon her, she 
 had never seen a look like that on mortal face before, 
 and began to understand something of the feeling 
 with which the Holy Mary must have looked on her 
 Son, and realised diml)' how the Israelites must have 
 felt as they looked on the face of Moses. 
 
 " It's come, lad," she said at last softly, and raising 
 his eyes more melting and yet more splendid than 
 ever, he said in tones of almost awful solemnity — 
 
 " Yes, it's come ! the burden of choice has been 
 swallowed up in the greater burden of souls." 
 
 After an absorbed, dreamy, solemn sort of a day, 
 John presented himself that evening at the manse, 
 and was rather taken aback to find both the min- 
 isters awaiting him. The super, glanced a second 
 time at him as he bade him be seated ; there was a 
 look on the visitor's face that was new. The second
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 175 
 
 minister sat deep in an easy-chair on the far side of 
 the fire, with a cigar in his mouth, and the super, 
 took the chair in front and began to fidget, as usual, 
 with the fire-irons. 
 
 "Well, John," he said, twirling the poker in his 
 hands, " no use beating about the bush, you can 
 guess why we have sent for you, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The minister glanced again and sharply at the 
 young minder. This was certainly a new John. 
 
 " Well, you've had twelve months to think about 
 the matter, what do you say ? " 
 
 John paused a moment and drew a long breath ; 
 both the ministers were watching him curiously — 
 
 " I'm in the hands of God and the Church, sir." 
 
 Mr. Haley turned and looked at his colleague 
 who nodded slightly through a cloud of smoke. 
 
 " That's all right then. Well, now, my colleague 
 and I have formed a very high opinion of your 
 character " 
 
 " And gifts," added number two. 
 
 " And gifts," assented the super, with a nod, " and 
 I should like to say that we shall only be too glad to 
 render you any assistance in our power." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said John, fervently. 
 
 " By the way, you hav'n't had many advantages I 
 know, you don't know anything beyond what you 
 learnt at the Board School, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I know shorthand, sir, and the rudiments of 
 Latin and a little logic. I've made use of the 
 evening classes at the Mechanics' Institute." 
 
 The super, raised his eyebrows in pleased surprise. 
 
 " Good ! good ! And what about your health ? The 
 medical examination is somewhat stiff you know." 
 
 " I never had a day's sickness in my life except 
 when I was knocked down in Trundlegate lane." 
 
 " You've never felt anything of that since, have
 
 176 THE MINDER 
 
 you? No? Well, you factory folk look sallow 
 enough, but you are most of }'ou surprisingly 
 tough." 
 
 "No harm in getting as much fresh air as you can 
 the next few months all the same," chimed in the 
 second minister, scrutinising a most satisfactory 
 length of ash at the end of his cigar. 
 
 " Ah, yes, certainly ! take your book into the open 
 air whenever you can, John, but now " — and here he 
 turned round and consulted a little book — 
 
 " There are a few questions I am required to ask 
 you. You are not in any sort of debt, of course ? " 
 
 " No sir," and John looked a little surprised at 
 the question. 
 
 "And you don't take drams or — or tobacco" — this 
 with a sly look at his colleague — " or snuff ? " 
 
 John, getting more at ease every moment under the 
 kindly influences of the minister's encouragement, 
 answered in the negative. 
 
 " And you are not under any sort of matrimonial 
 engagement, of course ? " 
 
 The cleric turned to put away the book as he said 
 this, for though he had asked the question because 
 he was required to do so, he was already assured in 
 his own mind of the answer. 
 
 "Well, yes, sir, I suppose I am." 
 
 Haley whisked round in astonishment ; he looked 
 significantly at his fellow-minister, whose brows were 
 lifted, but who smoked placidly on. 
 
 " You suppose so ! What do you mean by that ? " 
 and John was disturbed to detect a tone of dis- 
 appointment in the minister's voice. 
 
 " I mean, sir, that there has been no formal 
 pledge, but we are ' keeping company.' " 
 
 The super, dropped the poker with a noisy bang, 
 rose suddenly to his feet, turned his back to the fire, 
 pursed out his lips, and stared sternly at the bookcase
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 177 
 
 against the opposite wall. The second minister's 
 brows were raised still higher. John was astonished 
 and a little startled ; what could there be wrong in 
 his being engaged ? 
 
 " There's nothing wrong in it, is there, sir ? " 
 
 "Wrong! No!" replied the minister with an 
 embarrassed laugh, "and yet I wish it hadn't been 
 so. You see But who is the young lady ? " 
 
 " Miss Sarah Wood, sir." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Miss Sarah Wood." 
 
 The super, threw back his head with a toss of 
 despair; he was evidently both disappointed and 
 alarmed, for both these good men had very definite 
 ideas about the Woods. 
 
 John was alarmed and a little indignant ; it was 
 clear that the ministers shared the popular prejudice 
 against the family of his sweetheart, and so in a spirit 
 of chivalrous loyalty to his beloved he blurted out — 
 
 " She's a dear good girl, sir." 
 
 To his confusion, the simple-hearted lover's 
 defence was greeted with a burst of laughter. When 
 it had subsided the super, looked sideways at his 
 colleague and the colleague looked at his superior, 
 and off they went in another roar. 
 
 " No, no, this is too bad; you really must excuse 
 us, John," and the super, wiped the tears of laughter 
 out of the corners of his eyes. Then there was a 
 pause, during which John noted that the ministers 
 looked thoughtful, even grave, though he could see 
 no possible reason for it. Presently the younger 
 cleric, measuring with his eye the length of his cigar 
 stump, said thoughtfully — 
 
 " I think you said there had been no definite 
 engagement, Mr. John?" 
 
 " It is definite enough, so far as I am concerned, 
 sir, but " and John pulled up awkwardly. 
 
 M. N
 
 lyS tHE MINDER 
 
 *' But you are not so sure of the lady?" 
 John, unable as yet to see the bearings of these 
 questions, and tortured with a fear of seeming dis- 
 loyal to Sallie on the one hand, and of saying more 
 than was strictly true on the other, hesitated, and so 
 the super, bent over, and tapping him on the shoulder, 
 said — 
 
 " You had better let things stand as they are, 
 
 John." 
 
 " But is there some objection to a candidate being 
 engaged, sir?" 
 
 "Well" — and the super, was evidently weighing 
 his words — " it is not altogether a bar, you know, 
 but the fact is the engagement, if there is one, will 
 have to be stated on the schedule, and — and — I shall 
 have to certify that I think the young lady suitable 
 for a minister's wife." 
 
 " And she is, sir ; she's very clever, and far better 
 educated than I am ; she was trained to be a school- 
 mistress, you know, sir." 
 
 The two ministers had another laugh. The super, 
 held up his coat tails, and warmed his palms behind 
 his back at the fire. 
 
 " You see, John," he explained gravely, " if you 
 are accepted it will be seven years, possibly longer, 
 before you can get married, and in that time many 
 things will take place, and the Conference, from long 
 experience, knows that these early engagements don't 
 last. If all goes well you will go into a larger sphere 
 of life, and your ideas and tastes will change, and if 
 in the course of a few years you should from any cause 
 wish to drop the engagement — well, there would be 
 trouble, for the Conference is very strict on the point, 
 and, I think, rightly so." 
 
 " I shall never change, sir." 
 
 " No, of course; so they all say in your position, 
 and I've no doubt they mean it then, but, as a matter
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 179 
 
 of fact, they do ; and then comes punishment, and 
 even in bad cases — expulsion." 
 
 The second minister looked a little embarrassed ; 
 the super, had evidently forgotten for the moment 
 that his colleague had been " put back " two years 
 for some such offence. 
 
 John reiterated his declaration that nothing would 
 change his feelings, but the ministers smiled the 
 smile of superior knowledge, and at length number 
 two said — 
 
 " Couldn't you explain the case to the young lady 
 and get her to suspend matters for a while ? It would 
 be much better." 
 
 " But I might lose her altogether then," cried 
 John, in alarm, and the parsons, somewhat to his 
 perplexity, went off into another laugh. 
 
 "Well, John," said the super, when their merri- 
 ment had subsided, " I think there is nothing further 
 to discuss to-night. We won't detain you. Of course 
 you must push on now, and use every spare moment 
 to the best advantage. As to this other matter, you 
 must act uprightly, of course, but it would be better 
 on the whole if you could go forward as unengaged," 
 and then he kicked his colleague's foot to detain 
 him, and as John seemed about to protest, he 
 went on — 
 
 "Well, well, we'll think about it. Good night, 
 John." 
 
 " She will never let him go if she knows about his 
 prospects," mused the super., aloud, as John was 
 being shown out. 
 
 " She'd never have looked at him hut for his pros- 
 pects," replied number two. " He's a grand lad! I 
 should never have expected such scrupulous honour 
 in a factory lad. He's a saint without knowing it ; 
 he'll never give her up," and the junior mused a 
 moment on his super.'s words, and then, tossing the 
 
 N 2
 
 i8o THE MINDER 
 
 cigar stump into the fire, he said, slowly, " God help 
 him if he doesn't." 
 
 Meanwhile John has started for home, eager for the 
 joy of seeing his mother's face when he told her what 
 had been done. But as he went along a cloud arose 
 in his mind; it was only a little one — nothing 
 seemed difficult now — but small though it was, he 
 felt he would like to get it disposed of before he went 
 home, so he turned off and made his way towards the 
 farm. As he went along he thought rapidly. Why, 
 this was the very thing he wanted. How wonder- 
 fully everything was working out ! How good God 
 was! He had never yet got a definite acceptance 
 from Sallie. Lancashire people in their circum- 
 stances don't as a rule formally propose; they 
 simply go on " keepmg company" until they and 
 everybody else accept the situation ; the decision 
 comes when the lady is asked to "name the happy 
 day." But this would give him the chance of 
 getting the decisive word from his sweetheart ; 
 she was anxious that he should go into the ministry, 
 and if he showed her that the question had to 
 be answered on the official schedule that would 
 compel her to say the sweet word he longed to hear. 
 The affair of young Flintop, which had never been 
 fully explained, occurred to him at this moment, but 
 it was no fault of hers if so many men were in love 
 with her, and in his present uplifted state of mind 
 he could not see anything bad in anybody ; Sallie 
 would be faithful enough now she was having her 
 heart's wish. 
 
 But the young lady proved coy : she drew him on, 
 and made him repeat all the fervent declarations of 
 love he had whispered to her before ; she found 
 out what was at the bottom of his sudden urgency, 
 and made him give every detail of the interview from 
 which he had just come, and then she fell to musing, 
 
 I
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES i8i 
 
 and answered his ardent questions absently. Pre- 
 sently she turned and seemed to measure him with 
 her eye. It was Friday night ; the kitchen was all 
 upset with the week-end cleaning, and they were 
 seated in the parlour where that other memorable 
 interview had taken place. Again she looked him 
 carefully over in a sidelong, calculating way, and 
 then, after returning her glance to the fire and 
 remaining silent for a moment, she put her elbow on 
 the table, and looking steadily into his eyes, she 
 said — 
 
 " John, you have always thought me worldly and 
 ambitious." 
 
 There was a touch of pensive reproach in her tone, 
 and John hastened to disavov/ the charge. She 
 waited until he had done, and then went on severely — 
 
 " You thought I wanted your future position, 
 not you." 
 
 John could not deny that such thoughts had been 
 suggested to him, and that he had to some extent 
 entertained them. The reproof in her voice seemed 
 like a reproaching conscience, and he stammered out 
 something, but instantly perceiving that he was 
 making bad worse, he stopped confusedly. Sallie 
 was quite aware of her advantage, and made the 
 most of it. 
 
 " I was not vexed with you, because I — I liked 
 you, and wished you well, but because I wanted to 
 be a minister's wife myself." 
 
 " Oh, don't, SaUie, don't ; you're cruel!" 
 
 " And if I say I love you now, I may be standing 
 in your way " 
 
 "You love me, Sallie! You love me!" and he 
 made a grab at her hand, but she drew proudly back, 
 still looking at him with calm, injured severity. 
 
 " I love you so well, John Ledger, that I will not 
 stand in your way. You are free."
 
 i82 THE MINDER 
 
 But the effort had evidently been too much for 
 her ; her face suddenly relaxed, pain and tears came 
 into her eyes ; she seemed to be dropping, but John 
 caught her in his arms, hugged her to his breast, 
 kissed her passionately again and again, and then 
 began to plead his cause with her. He had been 
 glad of the difficulty that had arisen, and had seen in 
 it only an unexpectedly favourable opportunity of 
 getting from her the avowal he so much longed to 
 hear. She was an angel ! she was better a thousand 
 times than he was, and he could not, he would 
 not give her up. She relented slowly, but at length 
 allowed herself to be coaxed into a seat, and John 
 talked again, and pleaded his cause most eloquently. 
 She smiled at last, put her hand in his, gently forgave 
 the hard thoughts of which she had convicted him, and 
 caressed him with little lover-like touches. But she 
 stuck to her point ; knowing her power she insisted 
 that nothing should be allowed to stand in his way, 
 and declared that she would never be able to forgive 
 herself if she, of all persons, should be a hindrance. 
 John assured her over and over again that there was 
 no danger, but she would not be moved ; he should 
 be free, absolutely free ; she would tell the minister 
 herself if he didn't, and after his examinations were 
 over — well — well, then he would very likely think her 
 not worthy to be a minister's wife, as indeed she 
 wasn't, but she could bear even that if only he was 
 doing the work of God. And John looking at her, 
 and wondering almost to amazement at her beautiful 
 self-sacrifice, kissed her again, and vowed that nothing 
 should induce him to consent to her suggestion. Then 
 she became merry again, and plucked his hair, and 
 attempted to curl his straggling moustache, laughing 
 all the time at what she called his preacher-like lack 
 of business faculty. 
 
 '* Let it go," she said, " get accepted, and then —
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 183 
 
 then — if you really are silly enough to want me — 
 well, I am here." 
 
 John appeared to yield and left her, both of them 
 happier than they had ever been during their con- 
 nection with each other ; but when he got away from 
 the glamour of her influence he saw the inherent 
 deception of the thing, and his soul revolted. He 
 was afraid to cross the wilful little witch he had just 
 left, but his conscience would have none of it, and he 
 resolved quietly as he went home that, if he went 
 forward as a candidate at all, it should be as an 
 engaged man. 
 
 Sallie was as good as her word. The following 
 Wednesday she went to the sewing meeting, sat near 
 the super. 's wife, and drew her into conversation. 
 Somebody mentioned John, and SaUie leaned over 
 and whisperingly asked Mrs. Haley if it were true 
 that John Ledger was to be a candidate for the 
 ministry after all. 
 
 " You should know better than I," said the lady, 
 and Sallie blushed a little, affected a pretty surprise, 
 and asked why ? 
 
 " Why ? Aren't you engaged to him ? " 
 
 " I ? Oh, dear no ! " and then with another blush 
 and a sudden drop into the confidential, she moved 
 a little nearer, and admitted they had " walked out " 
 a little, but were not engaged, and that, of course, 
 this ministry question had stopped the thing, at least 
 for a time. 
 
 Mr. Haley, when his wife detailed this conversation 
 to him, at once saw his colleague, and then Sallie 
 herself, and then John, and the poor man finding 
 one lover saying one thing and the other another, 
 concluded that there must be something between the 
 young couple, and that the honestest thing was to 
 listen to John's plea, and enter him on the schedule 
 as " under matrimonial engagement." He had more
 
 i84 THE MINDER 
 
 scruples when it came to certifying Sallie's suitability, 
 but even on that score, though he had an unconquer- 
 able prejudice against her, there was nothing he could 
 put into words, and as his wife assured him that the 
 girl was clever enough for anything, he let that 
 go also. 
 
 The Sunday before the all-important March 
 quarterly meeting, John took the morning service 
 at the Chapel, in order that the super, and the officials 
 might hear him. The elderly local preachers looked 
 a little dubiously at each other as they consulted 
 together on the flags of the chapel yard after the 
 service. There was an entire absence of "style" 
 about John's deliverances. He hadn't even divisions 
 in his sermon. 
 
 His father, by reason of an almost phenomenal 
 popularity in his younger days, was still the 
 standard of comparison amongst his compeers ; but 
 John had evidently not a single one of his father's 
 gifts, and was, in fact, a very striking contrast to 
 him. But these good men soon found that they 
 were in a minority, and whatever lingering doubts 
 they may have had, they were careful not to express 
 them either to the delighted worshippers or to the 
 truculent and excited Wilky. The charge of pla- 
 giarism sprang up again, however, and the ministers 
 became a little anxious as to what Flintop and his 
 supporters might do. John was very quiet about 
 it all. His mind was entirely at rest ; he looked 
 brighter and even younger than he had done for 
 some time, his only misgiving now being as to how 
 his mother and sisters would fare when his support 
 was withdrawn. It would take all the few pound 
 he had saved to get him any sort of outfit for college, 
 and during his term of residence there he would be 
 able to render them little assistance. The income 
 from his father's business had, ever since he could
 
 THE CALL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 185 
 
 remember anything, been inadequate and uncertain, 
 and now that he recalled the fact, his father had 
 been unusually secretive of late, which was an 
 almost certain sign of impending trouble. Well, 
 God had called him ; that was the great thing, and 
 He, somehow, would provide. This was the course 
 of his thoughts on Monday, and when his day's work 
 was done he hastened home to get to his beloved 
 books. As he placed his hands on the " sneck " of 
 the door he heard a sort of bellowing groan, coming 
 evidently from his mother's bedroom. His heart 
 stood still, and he went white to the lips. All the 
 sweet prospects he had been dreaming of at his work 
 were wiped out in an instant, and blank despair 
 came down upon him as, opening the door with a 
 trembling hand, he saw, as he now fully expected, 
 the county-court bailiff seated by the fire.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 AFTER ALL ! 
 
 John's first thought was for his mother, and, 
 glancing round, he found her seated on a stool 
 under the stairs, the picture of stony grief. She 
 did not move for a moment or two, but as their 
 eyes met the fountains of the deep within her 
 seemed to break up, and she snatched at her 
 apron and buried her face in it. 
 
 " That's better," said Gittins, the bailiff, a short, 
 fat, apoplectic man, puffing away stolidly at a black 
 pipe. 
 
 John thought it was better, too. It was a good 
 sign when his mother could weep. He stepped 
 forward towards the fireplace, and put down his 
 breakfast can and basket, and as Annie, with red, 
 swollen eyes, picked it up, he touched her with a 
 little caressing gesture, and she burst into a fresh 
 passion of tears. 
 
 Gittins plucked at John's sleeve and whispered 
 sympathetically — 
 
 '* Twenty-six pun five an' sevenpunce — Rose an' 
 Crown Loan Society — Ferridge." 
 
 John's heart went cold again. He understood it 
 all. His father had been getting out of one financial 
 difficulty by getting into another, as usual. This 
 time he had borrowed money from a loan society, to 
 which Ferridge, the rent collector, had recently been 
 appointed secretary, and the bully had evidently
 
 AFTER ALL! 187 
 
 waited until tiiis hour of his approaching success to 
 deal his blow. God help them now ! 
 
 At this moment another unearthly groan came 
 from upstairs, and Sampson was heard wailing out — 
 
 " Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech ; I dwell in 
 the tents of Kedar." 
 
 John, forgetful of his own ruined prospects, and 
 with an infinite sympathy for the broken-hearted 
 woman under the stairs, felt his heart grow cold 
 towards his father, and, as he tried to check his 
 feelings, Gittins plucked at his sleeve again, and 
 jerking a dirty thumb upwards and winking solemnly 
 he cried under his breath — 
 
 " He's got 'em again ! " 
 
 " A pelican in the wilderness, an owl in the desert, 
 a sparrow upon the house-top," came downstairs, 
 and whilst Mrs. Ledger, to whom Sampson was a 
 man with a mind too great for the sordid details of 
 commercial life, dried her tears and hastened upstairs 
 to comfort her groaning spouse, Gittins leaned back 
 in his chair and said, with another upward jerk of 
 the thumb — 
 
 " Methodist blue devils, I calls 'em." 
 
 Annie, without a word, slipped her brother's tea 
 upon the table, and, though his heart rose at the 
 sight of it, John sat down to try to eat. 
 
 " Strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round ! " 
 cried the man upstairs. 
 
 John bowed his head over his cup, for the cries 
 brought shame and resentment into his face. At 
 that moment Wilky, looking very stern and sad, put 
 his head in at the door. When he saw John he 
 turned his eyes away, and was beating a retreat, 
 though it was for his young friend that he was really 
 looking. But just at that moment Gittins looked 
 round, and catching the little broker's eye, he 
 pointed upwards again with a broad grin.
 
 i88 THE MINDER 
 
 '* Oh that my head were waters and mine eyes a 
 fountain of tears !" smote on the furniture dealer's ears. 
 
 The effect was magical. He thrust the door before 
 him, waddled in fierce haste to the stair foot, gave 
 it a savage kick to command attention from those 
 above, and bawled out scathingly — 
 
 " Bud it isn't water — not even decent water ; it's 
 nobbut froth ! Tears ! " he went on, " it's other folk 
 as has t' tears, if I know owt." 
 
 The groaning upstairs ceased suddenly, and Mrs. 
 Ledger began to descend. But Wilky could not 
 bear to see her just then, and John seemed an even 
 greater embarrassment, and so he shuffled to the 
 door and disappeared ; but almost before he had 
 gone there came another knock, and in stepped 
 Sallie. John saw in an instant that she knew 
 everything, but he did not observe that she was 
 disappointed and even annoyed at finding him there. 
 She went straight up to Mrs. Ledger and gave her 
 an impulsive, womanly hug, that touched John deeply. 
 Then she came to the hearthstone, turned her back 
 upon her lover, and stood poring into the fire. 
 
 " He's got 'em ; he's got 'em bad," said Gittins, 
 flirting his thumb upwards, and nudging Sallie. She 
 shrank away from his touch, and was leaning over to 
 speak to her lover when " How are they increased 
 that trouble me !" came quavering down the stairs. 
 
 " Good gracious, what's that ? " and Sallie grabbed 
 nervously at John's arm. 
 
 " It's nobbut him ; he's gotten 'em again," ex- 
 plained the conciliatory bailiff, soothingly. 
 
 " Go out, John ; go ! I want to speak to — to — 
 your mother," and John, taking a desperate swig at 
 the almost untouched cup of tea, arose with curiosity 
 and troubled wonder in his eyes, but he went to 
 the door all the same, and strode with bowed head 
 and wan face down the lane.
 
 AFTER ALL! i8g 
 
 This was a complication indeed. He was more 
 bewildered than anything else. What could it 
 mean ? To have all his difficulties removed and 
 his way made clear one day, and then to be stopped 
 by an utterly unexpected and most humiliating 
 trouble the next, staggered him. It was a trial of 
 his faith, doubtless, and it certainly lacked nothing 
 in the way of effectiveness. There were no means of 
 paying except borrowing, and if even they could do 
 that, he certainly could not leave his mother with 
 this additional burden upon her. He was very sure 
 they would never be able to pay the debt, and 
 common honesty demanded that it should be met 
 in some other way, and met at once. He would 
 look well pushing forward his candidature for the 
 ministry when his beloved ones hadn't even a roof 
 over their heads. He had saved in all about eight 
 pounds — little enough if he persevered in his call — 
 but where to get the rest, if he devoted what he had, 
 as, of course, he must, to paying the debt, he did not 
 know. It was no use going to Ferridge ; he had 
 evidently calculated the effect of his blow, and would 
 exact his pound of flesh. 
 
 " Oh, mother ; poor mother ! " he moaned, and 
 then, without exactly knowing why, he turned 
 into Station Road and made for the furniture 
 shop. 
 
 A strange sight presented itself as he opened the 
 door of the back room. Wilky, in his shirt sleeves, 
 his thick hair ruffled and standing out in tags towards 
 every point of the compass, a pen behind his ear and 
 another in his hand, blots of ink on his nose end, and 
 his face working with strange emotion, was standing 
 at a table covered with a chaotic pile of papers and 
 accounts, whilst an old tin cash-box lay open before 
 him, displaying a five-pound note, two pieces of gold, 
 and a few other coins.
 
 igo THE MINDER 
 
 " Come here ! " he cried fiercely, as he caught 
 sight of John, "come here!" and dragging him 
 unceremoniously into the middle of the room, he 
 held him grimly by the coat collar and demanded, 
 " Can thou swear ? " 
 
 " Master ! " 
 
 " Can thou swear ? " 
 
 " Mr. Drax ! " 
 
 " I want somebody as can swear ; real, rippin' 
 blasphem/ous swears ! Nowt bud swearin' '11 do 
 it ! Curse God an' die ! That's it ! and I will ! 
 / will!" 
 
 " Oh, master, things are bad enough without " 
 
 " Bad ; bad ! I tell thee there's things as nowt 
 but swearin's equal to, an' this is one on 'em. Why 
 doesn't thou swear? " 
 
 Wilky was simply beyond himself, and John, with 
 horrified face, was trying to pacify him when a 
 customer opened the front door. Wilky's face set 
 into sudden sternness, and he made a dart for the 
 shop, but John, alarmed at the thought of what 
 might happen to the unoffending purchaser, caught 
 him round the waist and dragged him, after a long 
 scuffle, back into his chair, and went to deal with the 
 person in the shop himself. When he went back 
 he found Wilky shaking his fist at the man in the 
 mirror. 
 
 " I will ! I'll resign ! " he was shouting, with red, 
 indignant face. " Seven pound ten ! What's t' good 
 o' that ! We want twenty-six ! I'll send my plan 
 in; I'll chuck up my class, I will! " and then, to 
 John's distress, the agitated little fellow suddenly 
 collapsed into his big chair and broke out into long, 
 strugghng sobs. 
 
 This was the very last thing John would have 
 expected from his odd friend, well though he knew 
 him, and his embarrassment may be easily imagined.
 
 AFTER ALL! 191 
 
 He waited for a moment or two wondering vaguely 
 why this additional distress should be necessary, and 
 then he began to talk. It would only make matters 
 worse if he suggested the abandonment of the pro- 
 ject so dear to them all, and yet he saw not the 
 slightest hope. He did his best, however, and as he 
 did not hint at dropping his candidature, Wilky 
 gradually became quiet and at length took out his 
 pipe. 
 
 ** There isn't even time to have an auction," he 
 cried in a deeply injured tone, and glancing round 
 as he spoke at his very miscellaneous stock. 
 
 John understood, and shook his head. He was 
 touched to see the interest his old friend took in his 
 affairs, and the cheerfulness with which he would 
 evidently have realised upon his goods for the sake 
 of clearing the way for him ; but, somehow, there 
 lay at the bottom of all his reflection a sort of feeling 
 that the call of which he was now so satisfied carried 
 with it necessarily the removal of all obstacles, and 
 so he ventured to express hopes he could not very 
 easily justify. But Wilky was evidently thinking of 
 something else, and puffed out great volumes of smoke, 
 whilst his bushy eyebrows were drawn together in 
 severe mental wrestlings. There were times when 
 Wilky with a little effort might have raised the 
 money required himself, but it exasperated him to 
 think that this unexpected difficulty had come when 
 he had even less ready cash than usual, and did not 
 know where to raise so large a sum in the time 
 allowed. He knew also that in a few hours all 
 Bramwell would have learnt what had happened 
 to the Ledgers, and the news could not fail to influ- 
 ence the minds of several people who would have to 
 vote at the approaching Quarterly Meeting. If only 
 he could think of anything he could do, but he could 
 not ; and inactivity just then was so irritating that
 
 ig2 THE MINDER 
 
 he fretted and fumed and puffed away until he had 
 infected John with much of his own restlessness. 
 Presently Wilky began to relieve his mind by 
 denouncing John's father, and as his judgment 
 endorsed his friend's censures whilst his heart rebuked 
 him for filial disloyalty, he grew more and more 
 miserable, and finally remembering that he must 
 take some step soon, and that his mother would be 
 needing him, he left the furniture shop and made his 
 way to Shed Lane. As he approached the door he 
 heard his father's voice again, but this time the tones 
 were short and sharp, and triumphant. " Arise, 
 Joshuay, why liest thou thus on thy face ? " was the 
 sentence that fell on his ears as he entered, and 
 there, standing victoriously on the hearthrug with a 
 new, long clay pipe in his mouth and his left thumb 
 tucked into the arm-hole of his waistcoat, was his 
 father. " How are the mighty fallen," he went on, 
 majestically flourishing his pipe, " and the weapons 
 of — of — Ferridge perished ! ' ' 
 
 The look of ill-concealed disgust on John's face gave 
 way to one of astonishment as he looked around. 
 Gittins was nowhere to be seen. Sallie also was gone, 
 and the tears of his mother and sisters, now more 
 abundant than ever, were most evidently tears of joy. 
 
 " Sallie, John ! Sallie ! " cried the impetuous Lucy, 
 flinging her arms round his neck with a fresh burst 
 of relief-ful weeping. 
 
 " Sallie ? What about Sallie ? She hasn't " 
 
 " She has, John, she has ! Oh, bless her ! bless 
 her for evermore ! " 
 
 " God forgive me for misjudging that dear lass ! " 
 cried Mrs. Ledger, to whom pensive self-accusation 
 was always more easy than rejoicing, and then, 
 whilst Sampson paced before the fire and flung off 
 strings of Scripture that made John's flesh creep, 
 the young minder heard what there was to tell.
 
 AFTER ALL! 193 
 
 Sallie had had the money with her when he went 
 out, but she would not produce it in his presence 
 because "he would make such a fuss," she said, 
 with one of her most engaging little grimaces. 
 John felt a stab of wounded pride as he realised that 
 he was indebted for the very bed on which he would 
 sleep that night to his sweetheart, and though he 
 would not show it in the presence of so much glad 
 relief, his heart was heavy within him as he reflected. 
 It hurt his sense of delicacy to think that the girl he 
 loved should be dragged into the sordid little troubles 
 of their family life ; he could not allow for a moment 
 that the debt had more than changed hands. It 
 would have to be paid just the same, and, in fact, 
 the kindness of Sallie laid them under the greater 
 obligation to see that the indebtedness was discharged 
 as soon as possible. He hated the thought that 
 such a thing should be mixed up with the sweet 
 experiences of love ; and he did not forget that 
 Sallie was a Wood, and, whatever she did or said, 
 would have very decided views indeed on the question 
 of prompt payment. And )^et his only chance of 
 seeing the debt discharged was to stick to his present 
 employment and abandon his candidature, but neither 
 his own heart nor Sallie herself would consent to 
 that. Another weary, struggling night he spent ; 
 a little while ago he would have almost welcomed 
 such an obstacle — it provided him with the very 
 strongest reasons for remaining at home — but now, 
 after the will of God had been clearly revealed to 
 him in answer to incessant prayer, he could not, of 
 course, hold back ; but how he was to proceed and 
 still pay the money now owing he failed entirely to 
 see. This was the second time Sallie had helped 
 them in their need, and though he dehghted in these 
 acts of hers as showing the goodness of her heart, he 
 was deeply distressed to think that she should have 
 
 M. O
 
 194 THE MINDER 
 
 been put to such tests. She, when he saw her next 
 night, was just her own gay self, and utterly refused 
 to discuss the matter. And whilst John was pouring 
 out his thanks and protestations of gratitude, his fate 
 was being discussed elsewhere, for the Quarterly 
 Meeting was in session. The weather was wild, and 
 the super, anticipated, regretfully, that the attendance 
 would be reduced. To his surprise and relief, how- 
 ever, ten minutes before the usual tea, a covered 
 waggonette drove up to the chapel, and old Mr. 
 Pashley got out accompanied by five others from 
 Trundlegate, most of whom came but seldom to the 
 gathering. 
 
 During tea, Flintop and one or two of the country 
 local preachers seemed to have important business 
 together, and the second minister muttered some- 
 thing very disrespectful as he watched their con- 
 sultations. When the meeting itself opened the 
 attendance was still somewhat below the average, 
 but just as they were concluding the opening hymn, 
 and the super, was counting those present, the door 
 opened, and the stumpy form of the little broker was 
 seen in the aperture. He wore a coat that nearly 
 touched the ground, had the end of a lead pencil 
 in his mouth, and there was an air of overdone 
 unconsciousness about him as he stepped forward 
 and led in six men who were present there for the 
 first time. The chairman glanced with a twinkle in 
 his eye at his colleague, but as he saw Flintop and 
 his supporters whispering together, he began to 
 cudgel his brains to recall the quahfications of the 
 recruits the broker had marshalled. There was only 
 one of whom he remained in doubt, and as his 
 colleague assured him that the brother concerned 
 was "all right," he proceeded briskly to business. 
 There is much business as a rule at this assembly, 
 but at last the question for which many of them
 
 AFTER ALL! 195 
 
 were waiting was reached, and the super., whose 
 remarks were followed by a series of confirmatory 
 grunts from Wilky, spoke fairl}' and yet confidently 
 of his candidate. The second minister followed and 
 was supported by the stewards ; and the super, then 
 invited any others to speak who might wish. 
 
 Old Mr. Pashley broke through long years of 
 quarterly meeting silence to commend his young 
 friend. As he spoke, someone in the corner where 
 the Flintop contingent was seated uttered an almost 
 inaudible demurrer, whereupon there came a volley 
 of stentorian " hear, hears ! " from Wilky, followed 
 by dropping shots from his supporters. 
 
 This put the opposition on its mettle, and Flintop 
 rose to his feet to ask a question. 
 
 " Could the superintendent assure them — they 
 made no charges — that the young brother's sermons 
 were his own ? " 
 
 The second minister rising to his feet said that he 
 had heard the question raised more than once (a 
 trumpet-toned " Shame ! " from Wilky), and so he 
 had taken pains to investigate the matter, and he 
 could assure the meeting that the young man's 
 sermons were absolutely his own productions. 
 
 " More nor we can say for his ! " rapped out 
 Wilky, with a glance at Flintop. 
 
 The super, tried to catch the broker's eye, and 
 failing, he asked the meeting if it was prepared to 
 vote. 
 
 '* We should like a little more " began one of 
 
 the opposition. 
 
 " Vote ! vote ! " roared Wilky. 
 
 The vote was taken, the furniture dealer in his 
 excitement standing on a form to see how everybody 
 voted, and entirely forgetting to put his own hand up. 
 
 " Do you wish to remain neutral, brother Drax ? " 
 asked the super, with a pawky smile, upon which the 
 
 o 2
 
 196 THE MINDER 
 
 little man shot up both hands, and the meeting 
 laughed. 
 
 " Twenty-seven for, two against, and five neutral," 
 announced the secretary, and the meeting burst into 
 hearty applause, whilst Wilky bustled hurriedly off 
 to communicate the result to the anxious hearts in 
 Shed-lane. 
 
 The next three months brought many and varied 
 excitements to our friend John. With his mother 
 growing younger under his eyes, his sisters talking of 
 his future with proud looks, and Sallie contriving to 
 see him almost every day without, after all, taking up 
 much of his precious time, he struggled away at his 
 preparations with a light heart, and but for uneasy 
 apprehensions about finances, and especially their 
 debt to Sallie, he would have been lighter-hearted 
 than he had ever been in his life ; even the anxieties 
 connected with his examinations not being sufficient 
 to damp his pleasure. The super, arranged on the 
 new plan that he should have plenty of practice in 
 preaching, and the second minister undertook to act 
 as his coach, and every spare moment he could 
 command John spent either in his own little study- 
 bedroom or at the house of his temporary tutor. 
 His father, at the paint shop gatherings, hinted in 
 terms of hazy vastness of the sacrifices he had made 
 and the money he had spent on John's education, 
 and whenever Wilky was not present posed as a 
 suffering but willing martyr, who, though he loved 
 his son to distraction and could not support the 
 thought of parting from him, was by processes of slow 
 but ruthless self-crucifixion compelling himself to give 
 him up " for the good of the cause." As for Wilky, 
 he suddenly developed an absorbing interest in theo- 
 logical institutions. He bought a photo of Didsbury 
 College somewhere in Manchester and brought it 
 home as a present to his wife, and came down with
 
 AFTER ALL! 197 
 
 unexampled fierceness upon any of the frequenters of 
 the paint shop who still retained and expressed any 
 trace of the old Methodist prejudice against colleges. 
 John passed the Synod with " flying colours," as the 
 broker announced wherever he went for the next 
 fortnight. The minister who heard what is called 
 his " July " sermon spoke very encouragingly to him 
 about it, and the super, expressed his great confidence 
 in the written discourse which he had prepared. 
 
 When the official summons to the "July Com- 
 mittee " arrived by post it was handled by John's 
 mother as if it had been a letter from the Queen, and 
 Wilky was there a full half hour before there was any 
 possibility of John getting from the mill in order to 
 see and hear as soon as it was opened. Wilky 
 showed very clearly that he would have liked to go 
 with John to Didsbury, and as he put it " Stan' up 
 for him wi' th' big-wigs," but Mrs. Drax put her foot 
 upon that, and Sallie, with whom Wilky had lately 
 become quite friendly, smilingly shook her head. 
 
 Well, John must send a " talligram " the very 
 instant he knew the result, and Wilky would take 
 the very first train to Manchester and bring him 
 home in triumph. John left Bramwell on Monday 
 afternoon, and wrote to his mother that very night to 
 say that the candidates he had met were all so much 
 his superiors that he begged them not to hope 
 too much. 
 
 "That's just our John," said Mrs. Ledger with a 
 wistful smile and a surreptitious kiss at the corner of 
 the envelope, but Wilky was indignant with her ; she 
 was an " old maddlin " that " hadn't the pluck of a 
 mouse, and John was a duffing noodle. The July 
 Committee knew what it was about, and he would 
 come out at the top of the tree. Reject him ! they 
 couldn't ! they darn't ! John would come back ' a 
 full-blown minister, an' nowt else,' " and then, as a
 
 198 THE MINDER 
 
 sudden brilliant idea struck him, he hurried off to 
 Varley, the Methodist tailor, to see if he had any 
 black cloth sufficiently good for a clerical suit. 
 
 Tuesday and Wednesday passed very slowly. 
 Wilky could neither eat nor attend to business, and 
 was down at the little house in Shed-lane two or 
 three times a day rebuking the least sign of misgiving 
 and pronouncing large and wonderful prophesies 
 about John's future. Thursday morning brought a 
 letter, in which John described his experiences. He 
 said he had done better than he expected in the 
 examinations, but enlarged again upon the immense 
 superiority of his fellow examinees and begged them 
 not to be too sanguine. There was no work for any 
 of them that day. " Mother " went about with 
 hands clasped and lips moving, and every now and 
 then stole quietly off upstairs, they all knew for 
 what. Sallie came once in the forenoon, and 
 immediately after dinner arrived again, dressed and 
 ready to wait for the expected news. Wilky fumed 
 and fretted and put the Ledger's clock right, whilst 
 Annie went every few minutes to the door to look for 
 the telegraph boy. Two o'clock brought the after- 
 noon post but no message ; three came and passed, 
 and just on the stroke of four there was a sharp 
 knock at the door and a startled cry from all the 
 women present. It was the telegram at last, and 
 the boy who handed it to Annie opened his eyes with 
 astonishment as she snatched it from him and then 
 flung it away as if it had been some venomous thing. 
 Wilky, with an exclamation of impatience, picked it 
 up, but held it away from him and snarlingly cried 
 to Sampson to open it. Old Ledger, with white face 
 and shaking hand, received the dread missive, and 
 then, glancing at the directions, handed it gingerly 
 and with evident relief to his wife. She drew back 
 with a startled little scream, and then as hastily
 
 AFTER ALL! igg 
 
 snatched at it and hugged it to her breast. Wilky, 
 dancing about Hke a cat on hot coals, shouted to her 
 to open it, but clenched his teeth and stepped back- 
 wards as if afraid it might sting him. Then the 
 agitated woman looked at it again, every eye in the 
 house fixed hungrily upon her. She toyed with it 
 fearsomely for a little while, her lips moving in 
 prayer. With a face all awork, and shaking hands, 
 she tore it open and looked at it, and then, with a 
 gasp and a great cry, fell back into her husband's 
 arms, and when Sallie a moment later stooped down 
 and picked up the paper, she found all hope destroyed 
 and all fears justified by one awful word, " Rejected."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 SALLIE IS STILL — SALLIE 
 
 On the afternoon of the Saturday after the events 
 described in the last chapter, John and SalHe occu- 
 pied a grass bank in the field at the end of the 
 farm garden, with their backs to the house and the 
 lane. Sallie's face was shadowed, her brows were 
 slightly drawn together, her lips stood at a depressed 
 half pout, and there was an air of weary petulance 
 about her. John, lying on the grass by her side and 
 watching her face anxiously, was evidently in some 
 perplexity. Twice he had touched her arm, but she 
 had not responded, and sat with her hat in her hand 
 absently toying with the trimmings. 
 
 " What does the super, say, then ? " she asked, after 
 an unpleasant pause, and glancing almost disdain- 
 fully at her lover. 
 
 " He has had a note from the chairman to say 
 that, as far as he can make out, it is the literary paper 
 and the medical report which have thrown me. 
 He thinks the mission house people would have 
 taken me for foreign work but for the doctor's 
 schedule." 
 
 " But you wouldn't have gone abroad ? " she cried, 
 looking down upon him with resentment, and an 
 evident readiness to pick a quarrel. 
 
 " Yes, I would ; I would have gone anywhere, the 
 mission field for choice ; I offered to do so, you know." 
 
 " And you would have taken me from my good
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 201 
 
 home to live amongst nasty, dirty blacks, would 
 you ? " and she put on her hat, bridling the while 
 with indignation and resentment. 
 
 " Of course ! Why, Sallie, I thought you under- 
 stood ; I thought you would have gone anywhere — 
 a — with me ! " 
 
 " With you ! " and with disdainful lip and flashing 
 eyes she rose to her feet. " Oh, certainly, with you; 
 any girl would go anywhere with such a grand 
 catch as you, wouldn't she?" and the cold sarcastic 
 scorn of her tone, even more than her contemptuous 
 manner, stung John to the quick. 
 
 " Sallie !" he cried, in amazed distress, " I thought 
 — I felt sure ! after — after what you said that Sunday 
 night coming from Whittle Grove, that you would 
 have gone anywhere — but you are vexed. What's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " D-i-d y-o-u ! " and she drew herself up, and 
 flashed anger and scorn upon him. "Then you were 
 very much mistaken, John Ledger. I wouldn't have 
 gone, and if you were accepted to-day I wouldn't go 
 an inch, so there ! " 
 
 But John was not blind ; he understood instantly 
 that there was something much more serious behind 
 all this. A great, awful dread took possession of 
 him; she had been faintly sympathetic when he 
 arrived home on Thursday night ; he had seen her 
 twice since then, and each time she had been colder 
 than before towards him. He had told himself that 
 that was quite natural, under the circumstances, and 
 he must bear with her disappointment, and any little 
 outbreaks of fretfulness she might show. If she 
 loved him she would soon get over it ; her love would 
 conquer her ambition. He had excused her thus 
 when her reception of him had been so much less 
 kindly than that of his mother and sisters. She 
 was different, of course; it would be a considerable
 
 202 THE MINDER 
 
 sacrifice for a proud, ambitious girl like her to 
 marry a man who would only be a minder after 
 all. With thoughts like these he had pacified his 
 doubts and fears for two days, but now they did not 
 suffice ; a terrible fact was forcing itself insistently 
 upon him. 
 
 " Sallie," he cried, with white, horrified face, " you 
 do not love me ! " 
 
 He looked so frightful for the moment that Sallie 
 was cowed ; she had always thought him a little 
 limp and spiritless, but this visible agony of his was 
 a revelation. She had not formed the deliberate 
 purpose of quarrelling and thus breaking with him ; 
 she knew that that was what it must come to now ; 
 but she would have preferred to get rid of him 
 gradually, by snubs and slights. Well, he was 
 bringing it upon himself, and it might as well, 
 perhaps, be done first as last. People would talk 
 if it were done so soon, but she was smarting with 
 self-reproach, and felt stung to recklessness. 
 
 " Love ! " she cried. " Oh, no, I don't love you ! 
 If I'd thrown myself away as your mother did, if I'd 
 allowed myself to be made another clog to a man 
 struggling with povert}', if I had sunk myself to his 
 level, and thus helped to drag us both lower, that 
 would have been love ; but because I have some 
 respect both for him and for myself, and want our 
 wedding to lift us both, I don't love you. Well, 
 I don't love you. I don't want to love you, so 
 there! that's an end!" 
 
 John scarcely heard her ; his own thoughts and 
 fears were so overwhelming that he could scarcely 
 think. It seemed to him as if he had been suddenly 
 plunged into paralysing darkness. With a great cry 
 he fiung himself at her feet, and implored her to 
 recall her words. " She was angry ; she did not, 
 she could not, mean what she said." For some time
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 203 
 
 he pleaded thus, and Sallie, from discretion rather 
 than relenting, gave way a little, but the interview, 
 though John prolonged it in the desperate hope 
 that his crushing fears were groundless, was con- 
 strained and unnatural, and he was glad at last to 
 part in order to get time to think. 
 
 To some extent he had brought this trouble upon 
 himself; he had allowed his own painful conscien- 
 tiousness to colour his account of his experiences in 
 the examinations, and had told his tale without one 
 extenuating or hope-suggesting circumstance. He 
 had enlarged upon the superiority of his fellow 
 examinees, and the hopelessness, from the beginning, 
 of his own chance, and had taken scrupulous care 
 that all his friends should see the case as it actually 
 was, and in doing so he had unconsciously done 
 himself an injustice, and made the thing worse than 
 it was. He had not mentioned that the decision of 
 the July Committee was not necessarily final, neither 
 had he said anything about the possibility of trying 
 again another year. In truth, he was so utterly 
 staggered by the fact that after having received 
 what he regarded as an indubitable call, he had 
 been refused, that he had scarcely thought of 
 anything but the hard and faith-confounding fact 
 itself. 
 
 For three days he had been staring with hot 
 strained eyes into the blackness, and the first change 
 that had come was an infinite deepening of the night. 
 The first difficulty was confounding to him because 
 of its mysteriousness, but the second had in it every 
 ingredient of bitter despair. Sallie had not invited 
 him to stay to tea, though it is not necessary to 
 charge her with anything more serious than momen- 
 tary forgetfulness, but he never thought of that, but 
 climbed over the top of the embankment and down 
 into the lane until he reached the old stile leading:
 
 204 THE MINDER 
 
 into the woods, and there he cast himself down at 
 the foot of a mossy tree-trunk and tried to face the 
 new situation. 
 
 And, first of all, the man in him gave trouble. He 
 had an unconquerable suspicion of that individual, 
 and watched all his various moods and phases with 
 unsleeping vigilance. He was a wily, slippery, 
 unscrupulous slave who must be kept down with 
 unrelenting rigour, and now he saw this fearsome 
 object springing to its feet and brandishing its chains, 
 and utterly refusing any longer to be silenced or 
 controlled. 
 
 He had been fooled, made a tool of, degraded. 
 He was nothing ; his thoughts and feelings and desires 
 did not count. That beautiful, holy goddess, Love, 
 which dwelt in the inner shrine of his heart, had been 
 dragged from her throne, and harnessed like a beast 
 of burden to the chariot of a sordid woman's ambition. 
 But the manhood within him, outraged at the spec- 
 tacle, was in open rebellion, and began to belabour 
 him with the very chains with which it had so long 
 been bound. It had been cast into the mire and 
 trampled upon, but now stood up for itself and for 
 Love. Love, real love, was so holy, so glorious a 
 thing that neither man nor woman could despise it 
 without covering themselves with everlasting dis- 
 honour. But this love of his had not merely been 
 despised — it had been defiled. This angel from 
 heaven had been dragged into the service of hell, and 
 when she had failed in her task, had been spurned 
 and cast aside. With his hot face in the hollow 
 formed by the branching roots of the tree, John 
 ground his teeth, and tore up and flung away handsful 
 of the grass about him. His friends, even his mother, 
 would have declared that he had no pride, but he was 
 finding now that pride had him ; it was not only there, 
 but master, and was improving the rare opportunity
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 205 
 
 by revenging itself on its stern ruler. Yes, there 
 was no avoiding it ; he, he was held so cheaply 
 as to be of no account at all when he lacked certain 
 possible prospects. The rush and tumult of his 
 wounded pride was overpowering. He had had dis- 
 appointments enough in his short life, but this was 
 torture, this was raging madness, this was hell ! For 
 a few moments longer he lay gnashing and writhing 
 in the intensity of his outraged resentment, and then 
 another thought came, and he sat up suddenly. 
 Here he was, a Christian man, torn to pieces 
 by the raging of an unregenerate passion. The 
 nature which he had crucified until it was surely 
 dead had come down from its cross and mastered 
 him. The one devil he had so painfully cast out had 
 returned, and brought seven others with it worse 
 than itself. A great fear rose up within him; white 
 and stern, he braced himself for a fresh subjugation. 
 Again and again he threw the monster, and again 
 and again it returned to the attack. It was a long 
 fight, and terrible, but slowly, and at great cost, he 
 reasserted his ascendancy. He was on his feet by 
 this time, and, with head thrown back, eyes nipped 
 tightly together, and fingers clutching each other 
 behind his back, he walked about, and muttered and 
 prayed. 
 
 And just as pride and resentment got subdued, 
 another feeling arose within him. Beaten everywhere 
 else, the tenacious adversary came suddenly upon his 
 rear, and struck at what was always his most vulner- 
 able point — himself. He had brought it on himself, 
 after all. He knew that Sallie was above him, and 
 he ought never to have presumed. His attempt to 
 win her and the angry pride he had just fought down 
 were simply manifestations of selfishness. To ask 
 her to make sacrifices for him was pride and selfish- 
 ness combined. He had been doing the very thing
 
 2o6 THE MINDER 
 
 he was so angry at in her. Then he thought 
 of the prejudices expressed by his mother and 
 others, and of the spirit SalHe had shown when he 
 had refused to become a candidate the year before. 
 They were all of a piece, and he ought to have 
 been prepared, Sallie was not spiritual, that was 
 all ; she was moved by the ordinary prudential 
 motives of respectable people, and if he could not 
 offer her a position, at any rate equal to the one she 
 was in, it was mere selfishness to be displeased with 
 her attitude. She liked him in a way, and she had 
 shown that if he could have offered her what she had 
 a right to expect, she would have married him. What 
 more could he expect from her ? Ah, but she was 
 pretty, after all, and just the bright, resourceful, 
 prudent sort of person for a man of his rather dull 
 spirit and unworldly ways. It would be cruel to 
 bring her down to a position in which she would 
 have no opportunity of using and developing her 
 gifts ; she was made to excel and lead, and what a 
 satire on his love it would be to wish her to take the 
 position and prospects of a working man's wife. He 
 was quieter by this time, and the course of his thoughts 
 seemed to soften him ; the luxury of kind feelings, 
 after all the bitterness he had felt, was sweet to him, 
 and he grew quite tender as he reflected. If he had 
 thought, as he ought to have done, he would have 
 offered to release her as soon as he knew his 
 fate, but he had held on, and had assumed that she 
 was going to make a perfectly unnecessary sacrifice. 
 No wonder she had been fitful and querulous; he 
 ought to have saved her the pain of making this petty 
 little excuse of a quarrel. And just at this point his 
 pride came back with an utterly unexpected and 
 confusing rush. What a muff he was! He was 
 doing the most cowardly of all things — trying to 
 deceive himself. He knew that, his poverty excepted,
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 207 
 
 he was at least Sallie's equal ; he knew that he never 
 would have lifted his eyes to her but for her own 
 most palpable encouragement, and he could see, if 
 only he would, that she was a worldly, scheming 
 little hussy, unworthy of any true man's love. 
 
 But he fought the feeling down again ; it was always 
 easy to blame himself rather than others, so he would 
 forgive her. No! that was not the thing; he would 
 ask her to forgive him ; he would write to her and 
 release her ; that was the least atonement he could 
 make. Yes, he had done the wrong, and he must 
 undo it. And now it seemed as if the great struggle 
 was over, but with one of those subtle doublings to 
 which the elusive human mind is so prone, he pulled 
 up before another difficulty. He was strangely 
 contented with his decision ; the victory had been 
 easier than he expected. Could he have arrived at 
 it with so little effort if he loved her as he believed 
 he did ? A change had come over him, subtle and 
 sudden, but very real. He excused Sallie, he justi- 
 fied her, he pitied her worldliness. Yes, but what 
 was this? He did not love her! All the rest had come 
 with this suspicious ease, and was, therefore, now 
 void of all virtue, because he no longer wanted her! 
 
 He had got to the edge of the wood by this time, 
 and standing near the wicket gate, he looked hastily 
 around him as if he had lost something. He peered 
 wonderingly into the shadows amongst the trees, and 
 then up at the sinking sun, and suddenly realized 
 with amazement of heart that his own nature had 
 outwitted him, and that whilst he had been struggling 
 to retain Christian charity and justice towards his 
 sweetheart, the greater thing, the deeper thing in 
 him, the thing he had been more sure of than life 
 itself, had somehow eluded him and slipped away — 
 he had lost, yes, he had lost his love. A fretful 
 vexation rose within him. He shook himself and
 
 2o8 THE MINDER 
 
 looked appealingly at the thick trees, conjured up the 
 image of Sallie, and dwelt upon it. He recalled her 
 pretty ways and gay laughter, he reminded himself of 
 her kindness in the matter of his sister, and her more 
 recent and greater kindness when the bailiffs were in 
 the house. He called himself an ingrate, a selfish, 
 sulky wretch, but there he stuck. He felt grateful, 
 forgiving, even sympathetic toward Sallie, but the old, 
 deep love was, at any rate, stunned, and would not 
 now move. But real love never dies; neglect, unkind- 
 ness, harshness only strengthen it. Had he been 
 deceiving himself? Had he been the ambitious one, 
 and not Sallie? Had he been carried away by her 
 notice of him, and had his love been after all only a 
 subtler form of self-love ? 
 
 He sighed and looked disconsolately around him, 
 but the prostrate form of his wounded affection never 
 stirred. Oh, this was torment, pure torment ! He was 
 sure he had loved her; he mMS/' love her; hedidloveher. 
 But there was no response from within, and with a 
 numbed, bewildered heart he strode down the footpath 
 and back into the lane towards home. The only thing 
 that was clear to him was that until he understood 
 himself better he could not even write to Sallie. 
 
 A long, weary fortnight of fluctuating emotions and 
 abortive resolutions passed over, and John remained 
 in much the same frame of mind. He could not 
 decide what he ought to do ; and Sallie, oddly enough, 
 did not help him either way. There were no 
 appointed meetings between them, but one way or 
 another they met somewhat frequently, and it added 
 considerably to John's perplexities that Sallie seemed 
 as uncertain as he was himself. One day she was 
 fairly, though pensively, kind, and the next absent, 
 reserved, and short. As to the future, Wilky and 
 the rest of the paint shop fraternity urged him boister- 
 ously and confidently to try again next year; but
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 209 
 
 John could not makeup his mind, because the super., 
 who understood these things better than anybody 
 else, never suggested such a thing, though he certainly 
 acted as though he did not regard the case as quite 
 settled. John had no difficulty in understanding 
 why he was rejected, as far as the examinations were 
 concerned, but he found it impossible to reconcile 
 what had taken place with the direct and definite 
 call of which he was now so confident. The only 
 thing to do, therefore, was to wait the unfoldings of 
 the Divine will. Meanwhile he was occupied much 
 more constantly with his relations to Sallie. The old 
 ardent love refused to respond to his appeals, but he 
 sought her company because he felt that if only she 
 would drop her wayward, undecided, and somewhat 
 peevish manner, and be for one half-hour her own 
 bright self, his love would awake again, and then ! 
 — Ah, then ! But beyond that he could never get. 
 
 He had ceased to go regularly to the farm since 
 their " tiff." He scarcely knew why, and Sallie did 
 not seem to notice the change ; but this sort of thing 
 could not go on. He must get to the end of it 
 somehow. 
 
 The super, had gone to Conference, and John had 
 been asked to take the week-night service. He was 
 leaving the band-room in Wilky's company, when he 
 noticed that Sallie, who had been present, was wait- 
 ing for him. As soon as they got out of the front 
 street she took his arm with the prettiest little air of 
 proprietorship possible, and chattered away about 
 the sermon in a manner that reminded him of their 
 oldest and sweetest days. 
 
 As they turned into a country lane that led by a 
 longer way round into the road to the farm, they 
 came suddenly upon a herd of cows, and she, with a 
 startled little cry, clung closer to him, and he put his 
 arm round her to reassure her. When they had got 
 
 M. p
 
 2IO THE MINDER 
 
 safely past, John would have withdrawn his arm, 
 but found, with a great gush of joy, that it was held 
 fast. Then Sallie dropped her voice and began to 
 speak in tones only too delightful to the struggling 
 man by her side. Halfway down the lane she 
 stopped of herself, and sat down on the stile, and 
 noticing that he still stood, she affected to be 
 shocked at her own forgetfulness, and made him take 
 the top step whilst she settled herself down on the 
 lower one. 
 
 It was the time of the year when it is scarcely 
 ever dark, and the air was soft and balmy, whilst a 
 serene stillness seemed to pervade everything. Sallie 
 looked round with a soft little sigh, leaned her 
 shoulder against John's knee, and asked if he had 
 ever felt such a feeling of sweet peacefulness before. 
 John never had, but he had often been quieter 
 within. 
 
 " One couldn't even think a wicked thought, a night 
 like this, could they, John ? " 
 
 John couldn't, at any rate, and he was resolving 
 he wouldn't. She put her arm absently upon the 
 edge of his knee, and turning her head a little back- 
 ward, looked past him to the sky. John glanced at 
 her dimpled cheek and the soft white throat beyond, 
 and felt that life was beginning to stir at last in that 
 leaden thing he called his heart. 
 
 " John," she said, looking up into his eyes, *' when 
 all nature seems to be breathing the name of God, as 
 it does to-night, don't you feel as though you must 
 go and tell everybody how good He is ? " 
 
 ** I do, I do," said John earnestly, and though the 
 upturned face looked very tempting to John's 
 unregenerate flesh, her elevated expression made the 
 thought seem a desecration. She leaned her cheek 
 upon the arm on his knee now, but appeared so 
 absorbed in high thoughts as to be unconscious of
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 211 
 
 the fact that John's eyes were filling with dangerous 
 light. She dropped her eyes for a moment, and 
 seemed to be thinking, and then, raising them 
 suddenly, she said — 
 
 "John, are you as confident as ever that you are 
 called to preach ? " 
 
 " Y-e-s," he replied, musingly, and then felt a 
 stab of shame that he could even hesitate on such 
 a point. 
 
 " So do I. If God has called you He will find you 
 work, won't He, either in one sphere or another ? " 
 
 *' Yes, in His own good time." 
 
 " Yes, God's ways are very wonderful, aren't they ? 
 People's lives are often very different from what they 
 expect them to be." 
 
 John agreed, and added that the chief thing was to 
 be willing to go anywhere and do anything. 
 
 " Y-e-s." 
 
 Sallie seemed to be absorbed in some great thought 
 outside the small affairs of ordinary life, and presently 
 she asked, in the same musing, absent tone — 
 
 " I suppose you would go anywhere, John, and do 
 anything, would you not ? " 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " Oh, I know so. It's noble to feel like that," and 
 there was a mute apology and confession in the soft 
 voice that made John vexed with himself that he was 
 not more moved by it. 
 
 Sallie's eyes came slowly back from the horizon ; 
 and then, as though a sudden recollection had flashed 
 upon her, she fixed her gaze upon him and said — 
 
 "Oh, John, I'd such a funny idea come into my 
 head to-day," and then, with a spoilt sort of gesture, 
 which among other things brought her little hand 
 close to his, " but I won't tell you — you'll only laugh 
 at me." 
 
 " Yes, tell me, do ! " 
 
 P 2
 
 212 THE MINDER 
 
 But he didn't take the little hand, as he once would 
 have done, 
 
 ''Well, I was thinking" — and her hand was 
 touching his now — " I was thinking — God moves in a 
 mysterious way, you know — what a thing it would be 
 if God intended you to be a minister of some other 
 church ! " 
 
 John had never thought of such a thing, and said 
 so very decidedly. 
 
 " Well, but let me tell you " — and then putting on 
 a very arch look — "but you wise old owls of men don't 
 believe in signs and leadings, I know." 
 
 John, to encourage her, said that all depended, and 
 he was getting quite vexed with the hard scepticism 
 within him. 
 
 " Well, I never thought of such a thing in all my 
 life before, but less than half an hour after the idea 
 came into my head, who should come in but Miss 
 Hessay, the Whittle Grove new vicar's sister, you 
 know, and without me saying a word, she commenced 
 right off and began talking about you." 
 " Oh, she's heard the gossip." 
 " Never mind that. She said her brother and she 
 had been brought up Methodists, and that he was 
 once a candidate for the ministry, like you, but was 
 declined. And they thought it a very hard thing at 
 the time, but now they see it was the hand of the 
 Lord." 
 
 John was shaking his head quite energetically, but 
 Sallie would not see, but went on — 
 
 " Well, she says that her brother would never have 
 done half as much good in Methodism as he has been 
 able to do in the Church; and she hummed and haa-ed 
 a bit, and then she hinted that a way could be made 
 for you, and you might get ordained, and even married, 
 in about a couple of years." 
 
 John shook his head more decidedly than ever.
 
 SALLIE IS STILL— SALLIE 213 
 
 " I'm not called to the Church, Sallie." 
 
 " How do you know ? You cannot know that ! " 
 
 " If I'm called at all, I'm called to Methodism." 
 
 " But they won't have you ! You cannot be called 
 there. It's stupid to talk like that." 
 
 John gave his head another weary shake ; but there 
 had been another tone in Sallie's voice when she spoke 
 last, and so to soothe her he felt for her hand, but she 
 drew it away. 
 
 " I can never leave the Church of my parents ; I 
 daren't." 
 
 Sallie drew away with a petulant little cry, and, 
 turning her back towards him, stared with annoyance 
 in her eyes at the opposite hedge. 
 
 "Then are you going to offer again next year?" 
 she demanded, half turning round and eyeing him 
 resentfully. 
 
 John was growing a little stern, and answered 
 gravely — 
 
 " I don't even know that — yet." 
 
 Pride, anger, and impatience struggled together in 
 her face, whilst she tapped the cinderpath with her 
 little foot, and presently she asked constrainedly — 
 
 " When will you know ? " 
 
 But John had begun to think of something else. 
 He had suddenly made up his mind to speak about 
 the thing that lay so near his heart. His eyes 
 glistened, and the faint lines round his mouth 
 tightened. 
 
 " Sallie, I should like to say something to you." 
 
 A flash of curiosity came from under the long 
 eyelashes, but the face was still sulky and averted. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Sallie, I've done you a great wrong." 
 
 " Have you only found that out to-night ? " 
 
 " I found it out some time since. I have sought 
 your affection when I knew that you could only
 
 214 THE MINDER 
 
 respond to it at great sacrifice to yourself. I had 
 no right " 
 
 But Sallie had sprung to her feet, her eyes blazing 
 and her Httle hands tightly clenched. Why, this 
 mouthing, melancholy factory lad was actually going 
 to dismiss her — her ! 
 
 " Stop ! " she cried imperiously. " You whining 
 old woman ! I've been silly enough to think that I 
 could put some spirit into you ! Stupid that I was ! 
 You're your father's son, John Ledger, and will 
 whine your way into a pauper's grave. Never dare 
 speak to me again, except" — and here her native 
 hardness and coarseness got the better of her pru- 
 dence — " except to bring me the money I spent to 
 save you from sleeping in the street ! Go, sir, go ! " 
 
 John went white at her words, but grew stern and 
 strangely collected as she went on. He stood looking 
 at her scornful, flaming face a moment until she had 
 done, and then, with a sort of unconscious bow, he 
 turned on his heels and left her standing there. 
 
 Half an hour later, when he reached home, he 
 found a letter waiting for him which had come by 
 the evening post, and as it had " Wesleyan Con- 
 ference " embossed on the flap of the envelope, 
 there were five souls consuming themselves with 
 impatience to know the contents. Wilky was 
 nearly beside himself, and kneeled upon a chair to 
 look over John's shoulder as he read, and this was 
 what he saw — 
 
 " Dear John — 
 
 " I have the happiness of informing you that 
 you have just been accepted by Conference unani- 
 mously. You are to go to the Institution for Home 
 work. All particulars when I return. With every 
 good wish, 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " William Haley."
 
 PART II 
 THE MINISTER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 Three theological students occupied one of the 
 studies of Didsbury Wesleyan College one miserable 
 day in February about eighteen months after the 
 events narrated in the last chapter. A steady, 
 depressing drizzle outside having deprived them of 
 the usual exercise, they are consoling themselves 
 with a characteristically noisy debate on a question 
 — always peculiarly interesting to young men in 
 their position — the question of the morality of 
 violated matrimonial engagements. The one with 
 his back to the door, his chair balanced on its 
 back legs, and his feet on the mantelpiece, is 
 Yewson, a third year's student, with an easy-going, 
 nonchalant manner, short, upstanding black hair, 
 and a long, impertinent nose. The one on the 
 opposite side of the fire, and his back to the win- 
 dow, is John Ledger, who is now in his second 
 year, and looks broader, healthier, and, at the 
 same time, younger, than when we last saw him. 
 The last of the trio is not seated at all ; in fact, 
 nobody ever knew Max Ringley to remain long in 
 any one position, and during the quarter of an hour 
 he has been in the room he has sat at least once on 
 the mantelpiece itself, besides occupying in turns the 
 table, the top of a movable desk, and a piled-up heap
 
 2i6 THE MINDER 
 
 of bundles of firewood out of the coal box under the 
 bookcase. By the time we look in upon them he has 
 abandoned all sitting accommodation, and lies full 
 length on his stomach with his chin propped up by 
 long, thin hands, and his elbows resting on the 
 hearthrug. He is evidently very tall and lank, with 
 abundance of unmanageable yellow hair, a heavy 
 yellow moustache, and a canary-coloured smoking 
 cap, whilst one of his fingers is adorned with a 
 diamond ring of some value. His expressive 
 features change every minute, and his restless grey- 
 blue eyes bespeak a characteristic impetuosity of 
 temperament. He is far away the most popular 
 preacher in the college and the worst student, in 
 spite of the fact that he has had superior educational 
 advantages as the son of a Midland J. P. 
 
 They were discussing the case of a former 
 student who had been recently condemned to a 
 longer probation for jilting a young lady. 
 
 " Conference, brethren," Yewson was saying 
 languidly, as he tilted his chair back to a perilous 
 angle and carefully scrutinised a slipper of tender 
 history, "Conference is an old woman, and like 
 other old women it sometimes loses its head and 
 gives way to scares. Justice done in anger is 
 usually over-done, and it is so in this case." 
 
 "Treason! high treason! The king can do 
 no wrong," said John Ledger, in his invariable 
 character of defender of recognised institutions. 
 
 " Decent fellow, Portman, too," said Ringley, 
 staring hard at the fire on a line with his face, 
 and wagging his head with half-regretful musings. 
 
 " Portman," resumed Yewson, " Portman was a 
 brick, sir. But then you know, men, if the dear 
 little things will hanker after the black coat and the 
 white tie, what are we to do ? You know how it is 
 yourselves,"
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 217 
 
 " No, sir ! " and Ringley was on his feet and 
 brandishing the short study poker ; " we don't know 
 what it is, and please God we never intend to know ! 
 I've heard that miserable cant until I'm tired." 
 
 " Ringley, dear boy," replied Yewson with a 
 patronising drawl, " I love you like that ! It 
 reminds me of my own verdant youth. Bless 
 thee, lad, we all talk like that until the evil days 
 come when we say we have no pleasure in them." 
 
 "The fellow who gets out of a scrape by throwing 
 the blame on a woman is a cad ! " and Ringley 
 brought his fist down upon the mantelpiece with a 
 crash that made the little ornaments dance. 
 
 " Even a parson should be honest," chimed in 
 John. 
 
 " Brethren," cried Yewson, with a bland wave of 
 his fine white hands, "it is charming to hear you 
 talk like that ; it proves your happy innocence ; to 
 you these things are delightfully simple, the black is 
 black and the white is white, and so you dispose 
 of them with the most engaging emphasis. Very 
 delightful ! but very amateurish. As a matter of 
 fact, now, the questions are usually confusing, inex- 
 tricable mixtures and blendings of colours, and the 
 black runs into the white and the white into the 
 black until there is finally produced a shade which 
 would defy the ingenuity of an artist to denominate. 
 As a rule these things are delicate, subtle cases of 
 casuistry. Moral philosophy ! with all respect to 
 our venerable, if somewhat prolix tutor — for teaching 
 practical moral philosophy there is nothing like a 
 bit of casuistry." 
 
 " Confound casuistry ! " roared Ringley. 
 
 " Casuistry always sounds to me suspiciously like 
 Jesuitry," added John slowly. 
 
 " Beautiful ! " responded Yewson. 
 
 " Brethren, your sentiments do you honour ! But
 
 2i8 THE MINDER 
 
 come now," he went on with an air of playful 
 argumentativeness, " let us take one or two of the 
 simplest problems which this sort of thing presents. 
 Referring to a remark by my excellent friend Ledger 
 about the honesty of parsons ; jilting, as it is some- 
 what rudely termed, takes places sometimes outside 
 the ministerial ranks, I believe. Did you ever hear of 
 a Church member being expelled, or even suspended, 
 for jilting a young lady ? " 
 
 "They shall be! I'll expel 'em if ever I get the 
 chance ! I'll shake the meanness out of them, the 
 rascals ! " and Ringley flourished his fists menacingly 
 at future transgressors. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of a Church officer or a local 
 preacher being deprived of his office for this a — a — 
 offence ? " 
 
 John was evidently beginning to be interested, but 
 Ringley declared that he would withdraw the ticket 
 of the President himself if he did such a thing. 
 
 "And further," continued Yewson, now quite in 
 love with his own argument, "jilting takes place in 
 the world every day, but it is never considered a 
 disgrace. People don't cut a man, or even forbid 
 him the house, for such a transgression — except of 
 course the actual relatives of the injured party, and 
 not always them. You hear that such and such an 
 engagement is broken off, but it is not spoken of as a 
 crime. You are often not even told which of the 
 interested parties has done the deed, and nobody 
 dreams of punishing them for it." 
 
 " Yewson," and the indignant Ringley glared at 
 the smiling speaker with something like horror, 
 "you're a perfect Mephistopheles. If I didn't know 
 you, I should hate you." 
 
 " Exactly ! there speaks outraged innocence. But 
 look you ! I've shown that a rule is applied to us 
 which is applied to no other — never mind whether
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 219 
 
 rightly or wrongly (for John was leaning forward to 
 interrupt). So it is. Well now, this very delightful 
 indignation, which warms my heart as I behold it, 
 and which is so beautifully characteristic of my 
 young friend (Yewson was two years the junior of 
 the others), is all based upon the assumption, to 
 come to our second point, that when an engagement 
 is broken off, it is always the man's fault. As a rule 
 it is, I grant you, but cannot your capacious minds, 
 dearly beloved brethren, take in a case, rare I admit, 
 yet not impossible, in which the lady has only herself 
 to blame ? " 
 
 " No ! Never ! " — and Ringley, who had somehow 
 exchanged the poker for the dust-brush, shook it 
 fiercely at Yewson, and went on — " They're true 
 as steel, bless 'em ! too true for their comfort, poor 
 dears ! " 
 
 " Our friend speaks out of the fulness of a large, 
 varied, but singularly fortunate experience," Yewson 
 went on, waving his hand at the drops of rain on 
 the window sill, and alluding playfully to Ringley's 
 notorious popularity with the fair sex. " Ledger, 
 I appeal to your dispassionate wisdom. Cannot 
 you conceive circumstances in which the gentle- 
 man, even though a cleric, has no option but to 
 retire ? " 
 
 " No ! " thundered Ringley, and John contented 
 himself with asking — 
 
 " What, for instance ? " 
 
 " Well, supoose for instance the lady proved 
 unfaithful?" 
 
 " She wouldn't ! They don't, they never 
 do ! " 
 
 Yewson waited with smiling patience, and then 
 looking past the excited Ringley to John, he 
 went on — 
 
 *' Or suppose that, having been engaged for some
 
 220 THE MINDER 
 
 time, incompatibility of temperament should present 
 itself?" 
 
 " There we are ! " and Ringley threw the little 
 brush into the coal-bin behind the green baize 
 curtain, and began to prance about the room. 
 " The cloven hoof at last ! The last refuge of 
 dirty sneaks ! Lack of fortune on lady's part — 
 incompatibility of temperament. Another girl in 
 the way — incompatibility of disposition. Girl losing 
 her beauty by long waiting — incompatibility of 
 temperament. It's caddish, sir ! It's brutal ! It's 
 damnable ! " 
 
 Yewson, as the others well knew, had commenced 
 the discussion more from love of dialectics than 
 from any personal sympathy with the cases he 
 was suggesting; but he liked talking, and as the 
 arguments for his position accumulated before his 
 mind he began to display more interest, and so 
 taking his legs down from the mantelpiece and 
 sitting up, he said — 
 
 " Without exactly imitating the youthful exuber- 
 ance of language indulged in by my learned and 
 eloquent friend on the other side, I should like to 
 ask, through you, my lord (with a glance at Ledger), 
 if my honourable friend takes up the romantic, shall 
 I say quixotic, position that if a man has once given 
 his word to a lady, nothing of any kind should ever 
 induce him to withdraw ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do ; I say it, and I stick to it ! " 
 
 " Even if the lady should turn out a drunkard, 
 or — or worse ? " 
 
 Ringley's jaw dropped. 
 
 " But they never do " 
 
 "But if one did? " 
 
 Ringley, who was quite accustomed to be van- 
 quished in argument, looked rather staggered 
 when the point was pressed, and turning round
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 221 
 
 he glanced at John, as usual when he was in a 
 corner. 
 
 " You are supposing an improbable and almost 
 impossible case," said John quietly. 
 
 " But you do grant that there are exceptions to 
 your rule?" and Yewson seemed quite delighted with 
 himself and his skill. 
 
 " Yes, but not many." 
 
 "But there are some; well then, each case is 
 arguable on its own merits." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Well, suppose that some time after the engage- 
 ment the fellow discovers that the girl is odd and 
 peculiar." 
 
 " Any stick to beat a dog with," interrupted 
 Ringley scornfully. 
 
 " And suppose that he found that there was 
 insanity in the family, and that his girl had symptoms 
 of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, rot ! Talk sense, Yewson ! " 
 
 " As I have known one such case, I am not only 
 talking sense, but facts." 
 
 " Yewson, you ought to have been an Old Bailey 
 lawyer." 
 
 Yewson bowed low in acknowledgment of the 
 compliment, and then proceeded — 
 
 " If my honourable and learned brother will allow 
 me, I will put an easier case still. Suppose a man 
 gets engaged to — well, a worldly, loose sort of girl, 
 and then gets converted and discovers gifts, and is 
 called into the ministry : is he to continue that 
 engagement, and inflict upon Methodism a woman 
 who would be a perpetual disgrace to it ? " 
 
 The rapid blinking of John's eyes, and the tighten- 
 ing of his lips, indicated that he saw weak places in 
 Yewson's argument ; but Ringley was occupied with 
 the general question, and was watching the third
 
 222 THE MINDER 
 
 year's man with something very like horror on his 
 face. 
 
 " Or, to take a more simple case still. Suppose a 
 man in a lowly position; for instance, a collier — 
 there are ex-colliers in our ministry, and fine fellows 
 they are, too — suppose one of this class engaged to a 
 girl of equal position. Well, he becomes a candi- 
 date, comes to college, goes out into the work. He 
 must have a girl equal to his public position ; his 
 own tastes and ideas have also entirely changed ; is 
 he to spoil his ministry, and ruin his own and the 
 girl's life, by carrying out an engagement made under 
 totally different conditions ? " 
 
 "An engagement's an engagement!" replied 
 Ringley, doggedly. 
 
 " Or, to take one last case," resumed Yewson, 
 waving his fiery opponent aside, and looking 
 steadily at John. " A man discovers either that 
 what he once thought was love for a girl is not 
 love, or that the love he once had has somehow 
 gone, he knows not how ; he is not in love with 
 any other fair maiden, he simply no longer loves 
 the girl he proposes to marry. Which is the greater 
 transgression, to marry a woman he can never really 
 love, or tell her his changed feelings in time and 
 thus spare them both, or at any rate give her the 
 chance to set him free ? " 
 
 " Out at last ! the sting's in the beastly tail ! a 
 chance to set him free," and Ringley took several 
 long strides up and down the room, gesticulating 
 fiercely, and then coming back and shaking his fist 
 at Yewson, he cried, " Yewson ! the beast who 
 breaks a poor girl's heart by jilting her right off is bad 
 enough, but he's a saint by the side of the whining 
 humbug who says he's prepared to marry her, but 
 thinks ' she ought to know.' The cold-blooded hypo- 
 crite ! I'd like to twist his measly neck for him ! "
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 223 
 
 *' Gentlemen of the jury, are you agreed upon 
 your verdict ? " and the advocate looked hard at 
 John. 
 
 John seemed to have taken the argument more 
 seriously than the others, and was evidently reluctant 
 to answer ; presently, however, he touched the end 
 of his black moustache with the tip of his tongue, 
 and speaking with surprising earnestness, he said 
 shortly, almost sulkily — 
 
 " Yes, I agree with Max." 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! so bends my vaunting pride ! I 
 waste my fragrance on the desert air. Ah ! the 
 gong ! Five o'clock, I declare. By-bye, brethren." 
 
 John watched him depart from under overhanging 
 brows, much as though he saw the departure of an 
 evil tempter, and then turned his head and looked 
 gloomily into the lire. 
 
 Ringley, always most influenced by the last argu- 
 ment he had heard, stood looking musingly out of 
 the window at the rain, and, after a few moments' 
 silence, he said — 
 
 " Of course, I wasn't going to say so to him, 
 because such arguments are, as a rule, mere sops to 
 sore consciences, but if there was a real honest case 
 of the kind he mentioned — I don't think there are 
 many, of course, but if there were " 
 
 " Max ! " cried John, with an apparently unneces- 
 sary heat ; " if a man has won a girl's heart and 
 closed it to all others, and kept her waiting, he 
 ought to marry her." 
 
 " But if he's changed " 
 
 *' Changed ! he's no right to change ; you might 
 as well think of a married man changing. If he's 
 made a mistake he must bear the consequences, not 
 the poor innocent girl." 
 
 " But if he loved somebody else " 
 
 " That would be perfidy 1 rank, cowardly perfidy !
 
 224 THE MINDER 
 
 No man, to say nothing of a minister, could ever do 
 such a thing." 
 
 Ringley stared through the window with comic 
 perplexity for a moment, and then breaking into one 
 of his happy smiles, he said — 
 
 " Right you are, Johnny ! right you are, and now 
 for the inner man." 
 
 But when his companion had banged the door 
 after him in his usual fashion, John clasped his 
 hands behind his head and glowered through the 
 window, with a pained, anxious look. Then his face 
 grew dark with inward storm, and he hid it in his 
 hands and groaned ; for the case he had been 
 denouncing so fiercely was, all unknown even to his 
 inseparable friend Ringley — his own. 
 
 When he left Sallie Wood on that night of the 
 fateful telegram, it was with the feeling 'that all was 
 now at an end between them ; he could not hope, 
 and it depressed him to feel that he did not greatly 
 desire to do so. The hard, dead feeling he had had 
 in his heart towards her had come back, and even the 
 temporary desire he had had of saving her from 
 worldliness by drawing out her better nature now 
 seemed quixotic and almost silly. By the time he 
 reached home he had, with many a sad sigh, resigned 
 himself to the inevitable, and then the telegram, with 
 its utterly unexpected message, for a time put even 
 Sallie out of his head. But that shrewd young lady, 
 though she had meant all she said, and probably more, 
 on the previous evening, changed her mind with most 
 businesslike promptitude when she heard the great 
 news next day. She knew that John had returned 
 himself on the official schedule as an engaged man, 
 and would find it dangerous now to repudiate the 
 thing. She knew, or thought she knew, his heart 
 sufficiently well to assure herself that she could take 
 possession of him whenever she chose, and she
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 225 
 
 proceeded to play her part with characteristic smart- 
 ness. She kept herself for some days carefully out of 
 John's way, but she slipped down to the house in 
 Shed Lane when she knew he would be at work, and 
 delighted the hearts of his mother and sisters by enlist- 
 ing their assistance in a little scheme to provide him 
 with an outfit of underclothing; she would provide the 
 materials, and they would all unite in the delightful 
 labour. The thing was to be a sweet secret between 
 them, and a wonderful surprise eventually to John. 
 When some of the chapel people called upon her, in 
 the absence of her father, and invited her to sub- 
 scribe to a testimonial, which was to take the very 
 sensible shape of a purse of gold, she said, with arch 
 embarrassment and the prettiest possible little blush, 
 that with her relationships to John she could not 
 openly subscribe, " it would look so," but they might 
 put down two pounds in the name of Aunt Pizer, 
 This, as she well knew, was a tit-bit for the can- 
 vassers, who made the most of it, and before many 
 days had passed it was known to everybody who 
 was anybody in Bramwell Methodism that she and 
 the young theological student, of whom they were 
 all now so proud, were formally engaged. She 
 appeared in public on every possible occasion by 
 John's side, but took care never to be long alone with 
 him, and skilfully frustrated several attempts he 
 made to get speech with her. At the presentation 
 meeting she wore the shy, self-conscious look of one 
 who was personally interested in the proceedings, 
 and accepted with pretty blushes the congratulations 
 that were offered to her, and when, at John's home 
 that evening, he got up to see her down the lane, 
 she laughingly, but firmly, refused to accept his 
 escort, but put up her red lips demurely to be kissed, 
 and said that she had something strictly private to 
 say to Annie and Lucy, and as the moon was about full 
 M. g
 
 226 THE MINDER 
 
 and it was almost daylight, they must go with her to 
 talk about — they knew what ; and he (John) must 
 go to bed and dream of being President. 
 
 The quiet assurance with which all this was done 
 produced the distinctest possible impression on all 
 present, and John had the feelings of a man who is 
 being forced against his will into something very 
 pleasant, but not quite lawful. The first thing he did 
 with the testimonial, which the stewards had made up 
 to £40, was to pay off the debt which they owed to 
 Sallie. This, at any rate, he reflected, as he made the 
 resolve, would give him an opportunity of speaking 
 to her. The prospect of this interview led him to 
 examine again his own heart, and the result was any- 
 thing but satisfactory. His idol had been shattered ; 
 she was no longer his ideal of womanhood, but had 
 ordinary human flaws and failings, the one he saw 
 most clearly — worldliness — being the one for which 
 he had least toleration. And yet she was very dear 
 to him, and the idea which had recently come to him 
 that he might be able to lead her out of her littleness 
 and gradually instil larger and less selfish ideals, was 
 strangely attractive. His heart misgave him all the 
 same, and he felt that he was somehow weakly 
 ignoring important and vital principles, which ought 
 to be all-potent in his life. And when he came to 
 think of it, it would look very awkward if he broke 
 off with her as soon as his future had become 
 assured ; it would justify the worst things he had 
 ever heard said about young ministers and the 
 changes of affection which came with their changed 
 conditions of life. He knew Sallie well enough to 
 understand that if he took the step he contemplated 
 she would make the very worst of it, and had the 
 power very probably to wreck his career at its very 
 outset. Altogether, the position was not an easy one 
 to decide upon, and so many conflicting arguments
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 227 
 
 presented themselves that he had not made up his 
 mind when the time came to take her the money that 
 was owing. When he arrived at the house, however, 
 he found that Salhe had a party of young lady friends 
 to tea, and could only give him a very few minutes. 
 She appeared taken aback when he produced the 
 money, and a little annoyed as well ; but she took it 
 all the same, saying, a little resignedly, that it did 
 not really matter which of them had it ; and then, as 
 John seemed to be preparing to introduce something 
 more serious, she slipped the money into the table 
 drawer, and called aloud for her lady visitors to come 
 and see the impudent man who never gave her a 
 minute's peace, and who would not let her alone 
 even then. 
 
 The girls came crowding into the parlour with gay, 
 mischievous laughs, and earnestly declared that they 
 would not give her up for a moment ; and as he made 
 for the door in mock horror, he noticed that the hand 
 with which Sallie held open the door for him had a 
 ring on the engaged finger. And so the days slipped 
 rapidly by, and John could get nothing settled. 
 Sallie left nothing to be desired in her conduct, 
 except that she would never give him the interview 
 he so much wanted. 
 
 But it was clear to him that she was intending him 
 to understand that the change in his prospects had 
 removed the only difficulty in the way, and that he 
 might now be as happy as he wished. But, unfortu- 
 nately, John was not so sure that he did wish this 
 happiness now. Their interv'iew on the night when 
 he received news of his acceptance as a candidate for 
 the ministry had made an impression upon him that 
 seemed likely, not only never to be erased, but to 
 grow deeper the more he thought about it. Nothing 
 could be more charming than Sallie's manner, and 
 he sometimes felt that he was a sulky, dissatisfied, 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE MINDER 
 
 exacting brute, and that, instead of brooding over 
 things, he ought to accept his own happiness and 
 be thankful, and then, when he had just concluded 
 that it would have to be so, a feeling came to him 
 that forbade the thought, and made him feel that to 
 prolong the present state of things was only the 
 conduct of a coward. Sometimes he told himself 
 that the difficulty arose entirely from constitutional 
 causes. Sallie was one of those natures which 
 expanded and unfolded all their beauty in the sun- 
 shine of prosperity, but froze up and died in the cold 
 winds of trouble. Her environment and the moral 
 atmosphere in which she had been brought up, all 
 tended to create in her an exaggerated horror of 
 poverty and discomfort, and the poor girl was not to 
 blame for these things. She would, he knew, be as 
 bright and sweet as the most exacting lover could 
 wish, in the life which stretched out before him, and 
 which she evidently so much desired. Why should 
 he not accept the situation and be happy ? Sallie 
 was light-hearted and brisk, and pushing and clever, 
 and could rise to anything if she liked ; the life he 
 would be able to offer her would be so grateful to her 
 that she would not only be happy herself, but would 
 make him happy and help him on in his work, for she 
 possessed just the qualities which he missed in himself. 
 But w^henever he got to this point, there came over 
 him the sickening remembrance that she did not love 
 him, or at any rate did not love him for himself, but 
 only when he could give her the position she so much 
 coveted. He could, of course, have had an interview 
 with her, had he been resolute enough ; but as he 
 could never make up his mind to do what he felt 
 would be a hard and bitter thing to her, and perhaps 
 provoke her to reckless reprisals which might have 
 far-reaching consequences, he rather weakly let things 
 drift, and went away to college without any such
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 229 
 
 settlement of the case as his judgment told him he 
 ought to have had. The day after his arrival Sallie 
 wrote to him, ostensibly sending instructions about 
 some stockings and other hand-knitted garments 
 which his mother feared might be irretrievably injured 
 in the washing. He had, of course, replied, and so, 
 though no word of love passed between them, a 
 regular correspondence had been set up, and as Sallie 
 seemed satisfied with this state of things, he had told 
 himself that he had to be. The poverty of his parents, 
 and his apprehensions lest his mother should be in 
 need, prompted him to accept offers of supply work 
 during the vacations, and so he was not much at 
 home ; and when he was, Sallie seemed as wary and 
 shy of solitude as he was himself. Of late, however, 
 a new note had appeared in her correspondence ; her 
 letters, which were always worth reading for their 
 own sakes, had contained wistful little half-veiled 
 hints of tender feelings, and latterly she had begged 
 him to give his next holiday to his mother and her. 
 John felt that she was missing something. It might 
 even be that there were at last the dawnings of real 
 love to him in her, and so he felt he could not but 
 meet her advances ; but when he came to write the 
 words a sense of deception and unreality came over 
 him, and he began to more than suspect that the love 
 he had once felt was as surely dead as though it had 
 never existed. 
 
 It was this letter with which he had been struggling 
 when his friends invaded his study and commenced 
 the discussion just reported. That this subject of 
 all others should have been sprung upon him struck 
 John as somewhat singular, and the fact that his 
 sense of right had driven him to express himself as 
 he had done in a purely h}'pothetic case, strengthened 
 his conviction as to how he ought to act in his own 
 affair. He was still staring at the rain-drops on the
 
 230 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 window and thinking closely. He was practically 
 bound to Sallie, and she had many things about 
 her that greatly charmed him. He was absolutely 
 certain that now he could give her the position she 
 coveted, she would prove a bright, capable, and happy 
 little woman. Nobody would suffer by the carrying 
 out of the engagement but himself; and it seemed 
 more than likely that he would gain rather than 
 otherwise, for she had just the gifts he lacked. His 
 course, then, was clear. There were flutterings and 
 sinkings of heart as he reached this point, but they 
 were simply the timid caprices of his cowardly and 
 morbid temperament, and he would tread them down. 
 As he reached this point, he heard the feet of his 
 fellow-students in the corridor, as they returned from 
 the afternoon meal. He turned round with a quick 
 movement, then wavered a little, then turned and 
 gazed abstractedly at a photo of his sister Lucy 
 hanging over the mantelpiece ; then, with sudden 
 decision, he strode to a little box that propped up a 
 half-length row of books, unlocked it, and took out 
 a photo of Sallie, and, removing his sister's, placed 
 the other in the frame, and then, stepping backward, 
 looked at the picture with a smile and a sigh, and 
 turned on his heel and hurried off to tea. 
 
 Returning a quarter of an hour later to his study, 
 John caught the sound of Ringley's voice raised in 
 animated speech, and pushing the door softly before 
 him, he beheld Max standing in front of the new 
 photo with a pen behind his ear, a Hebrew lexicon 
 and Bible under his left arm, and a ruler in his 
 right hand. 
 
 " Your most obedient and devoted servant, 
 Mademoiselle," he was saying, as he genuflected 
 obsequiously before the picture. " Your servant's 
 most humble servant ! Your gallant knight's most 
 devoted esquire, at your service ! Eyes, madam ?
 
 A CASUISTICAL DEBATE 231 
 
 Yea, verily ! Dainty nose and chin ? of a truth ! 
 Dimples ? bewitching ! Your knight is a connoisseur, 
 it would seem, madam. A sly, still-water-runs-deep 
 sort of rogue. Look hither, my lady (placing his 
 hand on his heart), cast your eyes over these a — a — 
 exquisitely elongated proportions ; note this enslaving 
 hirsute adornment of the upper lip. Cast not your 
 pearls before a — a — a — porkers ; waste not thy fra- 
 grance on the desert a — a — Hebraist. Codlin's the 
 man, not Short, my dear ! Bethink thee, maiden 
 fair ! there's better fish in the sea than ever was 
 caught ! The tame, the puerile, the worthless are 
 caught ! Cast in thy dainty harpoon for the whale — 
 the royal whale — fair fisher ! Johannes ! Johannes 
 is a dreary dry-as-dust, compounded of Hebrew roots 
 and Greek irregulars ! Lift thy proud eyes to the 
 noble Maximus ! the poet ! the orator ! the true 
 knight-errant, the hero of romance ! the " 
 
 " The universal lover ! " broke in John, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Ha ! he sneers, fair damsel ! Dry-as-dust is 
 jealous ! I am the universal lover. This poor heart 
 embraces you all ! " 
 
 " And this is he who cudgelled Yewson," laughed 
 John again. " Oh, inconsistency ! thy name is Max ! " 
 
 " Consistency, sir ! consistency ! " cried the rhap- 
 sodical fellow, wheeling round with a sudden assump- 
 tion of apparent earnestness. " Consistency is the 
 vice of common minds ! the besetment of slaves ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 
 
 There was most unusual animation in the dingy 
 Bramwell station on the day John Ledger left for his 
 first circuit. His sisters stood near him, linked arm- 
 in-arm, alternately prompting and restraining their 
 meek-faced mother as she gave her son final instruc- 
 tions as to the management of his linen and his future 
 landlady. Sallie, dressed in quiet black, for old Zeph 
 had recently died, stood at the other side of her lover 
 with a pretty air of proprietorship ; whilst Wilky 
 Drax was leaning against the door-post of the book- 
 ing office, and asking the new station-master whether 
 he would ever have thought that the head of a quiet- 
 looking fellow like John could be chock full of Greek 
 and Hebrew ; and John's father was sitting in a state 
 of utter mental collapse, on a bench a little farther up 
 the platform, surrounded by a bev}^ of elderly females, 
 who were emulously striving to soothe the " beauti- 
 ful " feelings of their friend and leader, and reconcile 
 him to the anguish of parting with his only son. 
 
 " He shall have him," he cries one moment. " If it 
 tears my heart-strings to flinders, I'll give him up." 
 And then, as the females glanced at each other in 
 unspeakable admiration of the heroic sacrifice, he 
 suddenly collapses again, and groans out — "Me 
 have ye bereaved of my childern. Joseph is not, 
 an' Simeon is not, an' now — Oh, by Jings, that'g 
 the train ! "
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 233 
 
 "Ledger! L — e — d — g — e — r! Hi! Ledger! plenty 
 of room up here ! " and as John disentangled himself 
 from the group of clinging females and rushed for 
 the train, he beheld the yellow head and long waving 
 arms of his college friend Ringley at the other end of 
 the train, in the carriage closest to the engine. The 
 race for so distant a seat disarranged all preparations 
 and cruelly abbreviated the leave-takings, and the 
 last thing John saw was Wilky coming waddling 
 down the platform at the top of his speed, and 
 shouting vociferously all the while — 
 
 " Give it 'em hot, Johnny ! Plenty o' pepper ! 
 Plenty o' pep — pep — pep " 
 
 But Max, unable to control any longer his desire 
 to see the giver of such advice, dragged John into 
 the carriage, and thrusting himself head and shoulders 
 into the aperture, gazed amazedly at the rapidly 
 receding little dwarf, and answered, with a wild wave 
 of his long arms — 
 
 "Cayenne, sir! Best double strength Indian 
 cayenne, sir ! " and with a final war-whoop he backed 
 into the carriage, slammed up the window, and threw 
 himself upon his still breathless friend. 
 
 "Whatever mad freak has brought you here?" 
 demanded John, as he wiped his hot face, for the 
 weather was stifling. 
 
 " Only eighteen miles round, my boy ! Couldn't 
 help it ! My fatherly interest, my son ! My fatherly 
 interest ! " 
 
 " But " — and John eyed him over with wonder and 
 something like alarm — " you're not going to turn up 
 in your new circuit in that ungodly golf suit ? " 
 
 "Ledger!" and Max planted himself in the seat 
 on the opposite side of the window to John, 
 knitted his brows, pointed his long arm, and 
 beating time with his hand, " I'm — ^just — going 
 —to— do — that — very — thing."
 
 234 THE MINDER 
 
 But- 
 
 " None of your billy-goat buttings at me ! I'm 
 going to do it ! The ministry, sir, is making a pro- 
 found mistake ! It talks eloquently about seeking 
 the masses, and coming down to the masses, and 
 going to the masses, and all the time it wears a livery 
 and dresses in a style that says as plain as a public- 
 house sign-board, ' Stand thou here, whilst I go and 
 pray yonder.' I won't have it, sir ! If we are to get 
 at the masses we must be like 'em, dress like 'em, live 
 like 'em, eat like 'em ! And, by the beard of the 
 prophet, I mean to do it ! " 
 
 " But, Max, you were always so " 
 
 " Never mind what I was ! What I am's the 
 question ! I'm leggings and Norfolk suit and golf 
 cap, like the man in the street ! " 
 
 " Well, then, in common consistency " 
 
 " Hang consistency ! Because I've been a fool 
 twenty years, is that any reason why I should be a 
 fool for twenty more ? Consistency, man ! con- 
 sistency means stagnation, sir, and sterility ! It is 
 the pedagogue's perdition ; the one little lifeless egg 
 of the solemn old hen of respectability ! " 
 
 " But a dress like that — there's moderation and 
 decency in ever^'thing." 
 
 " Is there? I verily believe thee, my son ! And 
 that's why everything's so small and shabby and 
 worthless ! We want something drastic, something 
 out-and-out ; that's what we want ! " 
 
 But at this moment the train began to slacken, 
 and Max was soon scrambling all over the compart- 
 ment for his miscellaneous luggage. They both had 
 to change here, and as they stepped out upon the 
 platform Max gave a shout, and then rushed head- 
 long at the train which was just moving out from 
 the opposite platform. Several porters gave chase, 
 and by the time John came up he was puffing and
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 235 
 
 panting, and brandishing his watch at the head 
 porter in a vain endeavour to convince him that the 
 train had started before the time. It would be two 
 hours and twenty minutes before there was another 
 train to Longhope, Ringley's destination, and so 
 John spent the twenty minutes at his disposal in 
 pacifying the wrath of his excited friend, and begging 
 him to respect the usages of his class in the matter 
 of dress. He still held out, however, but John learnt 
 afterwards that his chum appeared on the platform 
 at Longhope in an unimpeachable black clerical 
 coat, light coloured knee-breeches, and a cap. 
 
 John had a compartment to himself from the 
 junction to Partidge, his destination, and spent his 
 time speculating on the character of the reception 
 that awaited him. He had been what is known in 
 Methodism as " thrust upon " the circuit to which he 
 was going. They had invited another man, and in the 
 earlier drafts of the stations their nominee had been 
 "put down " for them, but in the last half-hour of 
 " stationing " the arrangement had been interfered 
 with, and John found himself transferred from a 
 modest little circuit in Devonshire to the somewhat 
 sinister reputed Partidge, in his own count}^ He 
 had received no welcoming communication from the 
 officials ; the only message, in fact, of any kind had 
 been one on a post-card, enquiring what time he 
 would arrive. 
 
 " Whatever you do at Partidge, Mr. John," the 
 super, at Bramwell had said, *' be sure you make 
 friends with the Wheelers ; they are the leading 
 people ; get on with them, and you will get on with 
 everybody." 
 
 " Beware of the Wheelers, my friend," the second 
 minister had exhorted, " they are a stuck-up lot, 
 I'm told, and awfully disliked. They have ruled 
 the roost there for a generation, but things are
 
 236 THE MINDER 
 
 coming to a head, I hear, so you mind your P's 
 and Q's." 
 
 John's meditations, therefore, as the train whirled, 
 him along, were not of the pleasantest kind, and 
 when about six o'clock he found himself puUing up 
 opposite a great board, on which was written in 
 letters nearly a foot long, 
 
 PARTIDGE 
 (Lowtown), 
 
 he looked about for a friendly face in no very con- 
 fident frame of mind. When a new minister arrived 
 at Bramwell both the stewards were there to meet 
 him, and sometimes their wives as well, whilst quite 
 a number of minor people found they had business 
 at the station about that time, and the faces of 
 Sampson Ledger and Wilky Drax could always be 
 seen jammed against the railings of the platform on 
 the look-out for the coming man. But John, though 
 he lingered about the platform for two or three 
 minutes, found no one to greet him, and was just 
 sauntering towards the heap of luggage to select his 
 belongings when he heard light feet come pattering 
 behind him, a small hand was placed on his arm, 
 and a high, clear, girlish voice cried breathlessly — 
 
 " Here we are ! Hip ! hip ! I knew you at once. 
 Welcome to Partidge, sir ! " 
 
 Turning round, John beheld a tall, fair girl of 
 about sixteen, with great grey eyes, long dark lashes, 
 and piquant, expressive face, which changed every 
 moment. She had a wealth of long, light hair down 
 her back, and wore a walking costume of small black 
 and white check, with a picture hat. 
 
 " Now don't look so disappointed, sir ! Frown as 
 much as you like at poor me, but don't blame any- 
 body else. It was Hobson's choice, and even / am 
 better than nobody."
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 237 
 
 John made a stiff bow to this totally novel specimen 
 of humanity, and murmured something about being 
 delighted to make Miss — and there he stuck. 
 
 " Betty Wheeler ! But don't begin your ministerial 
 career by telHng stories. You expected the circuit 
 steward and the super, to meet you, and you only 
 find the steward's youngest daughter, a sort of 
 
 circuit scullery-maid. Well, it is too bad, but " 
 
 and here she broke off, and stepping up to him 
 tapped the button of his clerical coat with the 
 handle of her sunshade, and went on, " But never 
 mind, sir, ' the first shall be last, and the last first,' 
 ' the bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet shall be 
 the flower.' Everybody's gone to receive the new 
 super., who changed his time of arrival after every- 
 thing had been arranged; but cheer up, sir, you'll 
 go with me, and if we don't have the jolliest of all 
 jolly times — Nathan, take Mr. Ledger's umbrella and 
 bag, and the rest can come after. This way, sir." 
 
 A moment later John found himself seated by his 
 fair friend's side in as pretty a little pony phaeton 
 as he had ever seen. 
 
 " You're come, Mr. Ledger, to one of the most 
 famous towns in Lancashire," said Betty, as she 
 snatched up the reins and screwed her little mouth 
 into a squeaking signal for departure. 
 
 " Famous for what ? " John asked, with an 
 incredulous glance round at the long chimneys, the 
 heavy smoke, and the dingy brick buildings. 
 
 " Famous for ugliness, sir, pure unmitigated 
 colossal ugliness ; but never mind, it's the people 
 that make the place, and they are ' gradely folk.' 
 We are jolly here, sir ; some of us jolly bad — steady, 
 Pindar — but all jolly. At our house we're all bricks, 
 sir; grandmother, dad. Lady Mary, the kids, and 
 myself. Oh, we do have larks. Mr. Ledger, can 
 you play tennis ? "
 
 238 THE MINDER 
 
 " Yes, a little." 
 
 "And golf?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "No! Well, ril teach you. Can you play 
 billiards?" 
 
 " A very little." 
 
 " Then you'll be a match for me, but don't take 
 on the kids ; they're demons, all three of them ! " 
 and then, as another thought suddenly struck her, 
 she turned her eyes upon him with a flash. " But 
 we're all rippin' Methodists, out-and-outers, you 
 know. Why, I'm a seasoned official myself." 
 
 John raised his eyebrows in polite surprise. 
 
 " Yes, Fm junior secretary of the Guild, junior 
 leader, collector for Missions, and Sunday School 
 organist ; and the kids ! why, they are up to the 
 eyes in it — Pindar ! " 
 
 The little dapple-grey, thus sternly adjured, gave 
 a start and a hypocritical pretence of haste, but as 
 they were approaching the second hill he soon 
 resumed his leisurely pace. 
 
 John was looking at the busy streets through 
 which they were passing, and the public buildings, 
 and he was just turning to ask a question when he 
 noticed that Miss Betty was studying him sideways, 
 with a severely critical pucker on her brow. 
 
 " Mr. Ledger, I think I shall like you, I do, honest 
 injun ; but the point is, will * her ladyship ' like 
 you ? " 
 
 " Whom do you mean by ' her ladyship ? ' " 
 
 " Who ? why Mar}'. She's the one, you know. 
 Even dad's small potatoes where she comes. But 
 you lie low a bit, Mr. Ledger; I'll find out how the 
 land lies, and tell you how to work her." 
 
 John didn't much believe in working anybody, and 
 couldn't for the life of him see how a female occupant 
 of the steward's house could be of such first-rate
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 239 
 
 importance, but he was too cautious and perhaps too 
 shy to push enquiries, and merely remarked — 
 " She is your elder sister, I presume ? " 
 *' She is that ! she's everybody's elder sister ! 
 She's the patron saint of the circuit, bless you ! 
 They called the new chapel in Brand Street * St. 
 Mary's ' after her. She's a B.A. and a great 
 mechanic ; she invented some sort of athing-me-gum 
 one day, and dad says there's a fortune in it. Sing ! 
 she's the best amateur contralto in the provinces." 
 
 John felt he was conceiving a prejudice against 
 this petticoat marvel, and, as if she read his thoughts, 
 Betty leaned over until her light hair touched his 
 forehead, and said impressively — 
 
 "You'll begin by hating her, Mr. Ledger, and 
 you'll end up by adoring her ; we all do. But there 
 she is at the window ! No ! She's vanished, of 
 course." 
 
 John checked, just in time, an impulse to look 
 round, as the pony drew up before an imposing, 
 stone-fronted, modern villa. 
 
 ** Come in, Mr. Ledger ! Janet, take Mr. Ledger 
 to his room. But be sharp, sir ; tea's waiting, and 
 I'm just famished. Oh, here she is ! Mary — Mr. 
 Ledger." 
 
 "Welcome to Partidge, sir; dad's up receiving 
 the super. ; but you're our man, you know. We 
 always claim the young minister." 
 
 John raised his eyes a little shyly, and looked into 
 the frankest woman's face he had ever beheld. The 
 brow was broad and white, and gave an intellectual 
 cast to the whole face ; the mouth was a little 
 wide, but firm and almost masculine; the complexion 
 creamy, with the slightest tinge of colour in the 
 cheeks, whilst the eyes were of a deep violet, and 
 wonderfully soft and reassuring. The little hand 
 which he took was put out with easy frankness, and
 
 240 THE MINDER 
 
 John felt certain at once that whatever he did in 
 the future he would never misunderstand this most 
 uncommon specimen of womanhood. 
 
 " I scarcely understand," said John hesitatingly. 
 " These are not my lodgings." 
 
 Betty ran off into a long rippling laugh. 
 
 " No, not your lodgings, sir," said Mary, quietly, 
 " but your home, if you choose to make it such. 
 Every Christian minister is welcome here, sir, but 
 we always claim the junior preacher. Work in your 
 lodgings, but when you want recreation and company 
 and cheering up, well, come here,week-day or Sunday, 
 morning, noon, or night." 
 
 The form of these words sounded, at least, a little 
 stilted, but the frank, easy heartiness of them went 
 to the stranger's heart, and he ascended the broad 
 staircase with relief and even gratitude. As he came 
 down into the hall again, Betty pounced out upon him 
 from the smoke-room and grabbed him by the arm. 
 
 " I say, you mustn't, you know ! she won't like it. 
 Don't you come polite piety with her. Contradict 
 her, bully her, but for mercy's sake don't soap her ! " 
 and she dragged him unceremoniously into the 
 dining-room. 
 
 That night, as John rolled about in a luxurious 
 bed at the Wheelers', he tried hard to define the 
 impression made upon him by this singular family. 
 They were the most unconventional people he had 
 ever met ; there were no signs of particular polite- 
 ness, but he found his needs quietly anticipated and 
 attended to. They had very little small talk, and 
 now that he came to notice it, no petty scandal ; but 
 the absence of it seemed rather from taste than from 
 either religiousness or politeness. 
 
 They were pronouncedly Lancastrian in their 
 studious avoidance of religious talk, and yet they 
 were keenly interested in the chapel and the circuit.
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 241 
 
 The "kids" turned out to be three great manly 
 fellows, whose ages ranged from about thirty to 
 eighteen, and who spoke of their Church work and 
 official duties as if they were amusing jokes. 
 
 The father was most evidently the chosen chum of 
 his sons, Betty was the household libertine and 
 jester, "Lady" Mary an object of quiet but deep 
 regard that amounted almost to reverence, and they 
 all talked the dialect when they spoke to the cherry- 
 cheeked old w^oman called grandmother. 
 
 A conscientious scruple had constrained John 
 to mention quite early in the evening that he 
 was an ex-factory lad, but the only change the 
 information produced was an increase of cordiality, 
 and they showed more inclination to talk " shop " 
 to him. 
 
 Towards Mary Wheeler John had a curious feeling ; 
 he was conscious of a subtle, but very genuine acces- 
 sion of self-reliance. It was as though some long- 
 felt deficiency had been met, and that as he 
 approached perilous waters a pilot had come aboard 
 his little ship. 
 
 His natural apprehensiveness warned him that 
 this was all too good to last, and he fell asleep 
 wondering what it could have been that made the 
 second minister at home warn him against this most 
 interesting and hospitable family. 
 
 In a few days he got settled down in his lodgings 
 and was soon hard at work. And so the days ran into 
 weeks, and the weeks into months, and he was 
 increasing every day in his intimacy with, and 
 respect for the Wheelers, and more perplexed than 
 ever as to the grounds for the prejudice which he had 
 met with amongst outsiders, and which he soon 
 perceived was present in the minds of the people 
 amongst whom he was now mixing. A hard student, 
 a fastidious sermon-maker, and an almost painfully 
 
 M. R
 
 242 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 diligent pastor, he found in the house on Shuttle 
 Hill relaxation and company, and quick but quiet 
 sympathy, that made number seven as it was fami- 
 liarly called — for the Wheelers had a sort of contempt 
 for the modern craze for " titled " houses — a haven 
 of comfort and rest. At the same time he was 
 aware that he was living in an atmosphere of 
 suspicion and petty scandal, and that the family he 
 had grown to respect so deeply were in anything but 
 good odour in the town. 
 
 "Yes, yes. Ledger," said the super., a little im- 
 patiently, " the Wheelers have made a pet of you 
 and you are inexperienced and cannot see." 
 
 " I speak of them as I find them," replied John 
 stoutly. " In the home and in the church they are 
 always the same." 
 
 " They are so purse-proud and worldly, you know, 
 you never hear anything spiritual in their talk." 
 
 John silently thanked God he didn't, but as he 
 answered not, the super, went on — 
 
 " It cannot go on ! It riiust not go on. I shall 
 change the stewardship at Christmas." 
 
 " I hope not, sir." 
 
 It was almost necessary for the senior minister to 
 carry his colleague with him in a step of this kind, 
 and so — they were talking at the usual Monday 
 morning preachers' meeting — he fidgeted about in 
 his chair and cried — 
 
 " You hope not ! Good heavens. Ledger, 
 you've only to look at his face to see that he 
 drinks." 
 
 " I don't believe it, sir ! " 
 
 " But, man, it has been the talk of the circuit for 
 years, everybody knows it ; they say he never comes 
 from the Manchester market sober." 
 
 " It's a wicked, envious falsehood, sir," and the 
 quiet John was on his feet in indignation.
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 243 
 
 There was a momentary pause, and then the super, 
 went on — 
 
 " I feel as if some curse were hanging over the 
 circuit ; besides he's been steward for twenty years ; 
 there ought to be a change for that reason." 
 
 "Change for that reason if you Hke," said John, 
 " but for common honesty's sake let us have nothing 
 of the other." 
 
 " Ledger, it is right to be charitable, but we've no 
 right to be deaf and blind. We have the reputation 
 of the circuit and the church to think of, my dear 
 fellow, besides — and here he dropped into a porten- 
 tious whisper — I'm told the firm is not solvent. I'm 
 assured that there will be a crash before long, and 
 I'm resolved that before that day comes I'll have 
 him out and save the scandal, as far as we are 
 concerned." 
 
 " And I'll prepare him for what is coming." 
 
 "What! You'll betray your super. ! Good heavens, 
 man, are you mad ? " 
 
 " If you act on mere malicious rumour and get him 
 out on a mean subterfuge, I'll tell him everything." 
 
 "You will! You'll betray me? Young man, 
 I'll have you before the Synod ! " 
 
 " I shall do it sir. Synod or no Synod." 
 
 They were standing now and glaring at each other 
 with threatening looks. 
 
 The super, was the first to quail, however, and he 
 dropped into a chair with a baffled, querulous snarl — 
 
 " Very well, young man, you'll do as you please, 
 and take the consequences, but have him out I 
 will!" 
 
 " By all means, sir, if you think it best, only go to 
 him and tell him what you propose to do ; I dare- 
 say, if you give him the slightest hint, he'll save you 
 the trouble." 
 
 The super, answered with an angry snarl, and in 
 
 R 2
 
 244 THE MINDER 
 
 parting ostentatiously, overlooked his colleague's out- 
 stretched hand. As for John, he went away in an 
 anxious and indignant mood. 
 
 To think of it ! He, the safest man in his 
 college year, embroiled in a struggle with his super, 
 before he had been three months in the work ! 
 
 He had had four services on the preceding day, 
 and was limp and washed-out, and the encounter he 
 had just had depressed and worried him. It was 
 madness to try a fall with his superior, and it was 
 ungrateful and cowardly to refuse to stand up for his 
 friends. 
 
 Oh that he were safely back in his beloved Alma 
 Mater, with nothing to think of but his books ! But, 
 perhaps, he had been to blame ; he had certainly 
 shown a marked preference for the Wheelers. It was 
 not right for a minister to have favourites. Perhaps 
 if he quietly and gradually drop — No, no, it was 
 mean, it was 
 
 " What ho, there ! Sir nose-i-th cloud ! Can't you 
 see a poor girl because she isn't a mill chimney ? Take 
 hold of this ' bike ' please, don't you see I've got two ! " 
 
 "Betty! " 
 
 " Yes, it's Betty, poor fetch-and-carry Betty, the 
 circuit slave; but you cannot 'bike' in full canonicals. 
 Oh, dear, we shall have to go back to that horrible 
 den ! " 
 
 *' But, Betty, I cannot, I'm busy " 
 
 " And / cannot, Fin busy, but we're going all the 
 same. I promised the 'Goddess' I'd do my duty 
 by her, and I'm doing it." 
 
 The Goddess was Betty's name for the photo of 
 Sallie on the study mantelpiece, at which, whenever 
 John's back was turned, she made most unladylike 
 grimaces. She was the only " alien " who ever 
 invaded John's sanctum, and certain cushions, rugs, 
 flowers, and dishes of out-of-season fruit which were
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 245 
 
 to be seen there had been brought by her in spite of 
 John's pohte protests. She had noticed the photo 
 on her first invasion of the room, and thus became 
 aware of his engagement. She pretended to be 
 hugely disappointed, and to fiercely hate the original. 
 She criticised the photo with reckless frankness on 
 every possible occasion, and often roused John from 
 pensive thoughts by chaffing him about the singularity 
 of his taste. 
 
 " You must excuse me to-day, Betty," John said, 
 as he took the machine from her. It was her 
 youngest brother's, and she had brought it for her 
 favourite minister's use. 
 
 "Excuse? certainly! You are in for a Monday 
 mope — I'll excuse you ! You want to write to the 
 Goddess — I'll excuse you ! You want to visit the 
 flock — I'll excuse you ! Duty calls you and me to 
 Bellerly, and we're going, jump up ! " and without 
 giving him time for further remonstrance she sprang 
 upon her pretty " Swift," and darted away to John's 
 lodgings. 
 
 John tried to get out of the trip again when they 
 reached his own door, but his imperious little ruler 
 waved him peremptorily indoors to change his clothes, 
 and began industriously to oil his machine whilst she 
 waited. 
 
 " I've a bone to pick with you, Mr. Thirdly," she 
 cried, as they rode abreast along the highway, in 
 the crisp December air. 
 
 ''Oh, dear! What now ?" 
 
 " What have you been doing to her ladyship ? " 
 
 " I ? Miss Wheeler ? How do you mean ? " and 
 accustomed as he was to the reckless and startling 
 onslaughts of his lively companion, John looked really 
 alarmed and steered a little closer. 
 
 " You've been coming it over her some wa}' that's 
 certain. What do you mean, sir ? "
 
 246 THE MINDER 
 
 " I ? I've done nothing ! What does she 
 say ? " 
 
 *' Say ! That's it ! She doesn't say anything ; she 
 talked of you often enough when first you came, but 
 she never even alludes to you now. Now for a jolly 
 coaster," and away she flew down the hill. 
 
 " But, Betty, you must be mistaken," cried John, 
 when he overtook her. " I've followed your instruc- 
 tions most carefully." 
 
 " You've been soaoing her! " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 *' Then you've been polite, you haven't sat upon 
 her. Have you ever made her cry ? " 
 
 " Cry? Good gracious, Betty, I should think not." 
 
 " Tchat ! What sillies men are ! You'll never get 
 on with her until you ' boss ' her." 
 
 The idea of " bossing " the most frank and cool- 
 headed woman he had ever met amused John ; he 
 would like to see any one, his friend, Ringley, for 
 instance, trying it, and he grinned as he pictured the 
 scene. He tried again and again to get some clearer 
 idea of the case from Betty, but failed, and just 
 when he was giving the matter up she turned on her 
 machine, and looking at him with the surprise of a 
 new and rather sobering thought, she said — 
 
 *' Of course you haven't been spooning on her ? " 
 
 "Betty?" 
 
 " Of course, onl}' men do such silly things ; that 
 would spoil everything, you know, even if there were 
 no ' Goddess.' " 
 
 John would have liked to ask just one question 
 more, but it seemed rather a difficult one to frame, 
 and before he had got it ready they had arrived at his 
 door, and Betty flew on without stopping. 
 
 After a light lunch our young preacher settled 
 down to the preparation of a new sermon, but he 
 found his line of thought constantly traversed by the
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 247 
 
 gay Betty's mysterious conversation, and the remem- 
 brance of the altercation he had had with his super. 
 He interpreted his own duty as a minister very hter- 
 ally, and so, as he brooded over the condition of the 
 Church, and the things that were taking place about 
 him, he found himself later in the day collecting 
 together materials for a sermon on evil speaking. 
 By Thursday night the discourse was finished, but 
 almost immediately he found himself full of mis- 
 givings and wondering whether a direct attack on 
 the popular and injurious vice was the best possible 
 way of dealing with it ; and so by noon on Friday 
 he had put the manuscript away and was busily 
 em.ployed on a discourse on charity. It was late 
 on Saturday night before he finished it, and he spent 
 the time which ought to have been given to sleep in 
 debating which of the two homilies he would deliver 
 at St. Mary's the following morning. The question 
 was undecided when he left his bedroom on Sunday, 
 and close application for several days and the worry 
 occasioned by his relations with his colleague had 
 made him nervous and miserable. His style was 
 practical and didactic ; he liked to say plainly what 
 he meant, but even the milder of the two sermons 
 was sufficiently straight for all purposes. He had 
 not made up his mind when the time came to 
 adjourn to the sanctuary, but as soon as he faced the 
 congregation his judgment seemed to clear, and he 
 decided upon the least direct method of dealing with 
 the evil his soul hated. He was so nervous that his 
 first few sentences could not be heard at the other 
 end of the chapel. Just as he began to feel at home 
 in his work he saw Bowden, Mr. Wheeler's brother- 
 in-law, and chief though secret enemy, lean over and 
 whisper something to his wife. That lady referred 
 to the Revised Version lying on her knee, lifted her 
 eyes and looked straight at John, and then turned
 
 24S THE MINDER 
 
 and nodded with curling lip at her husband. With 
 a sinking heart the preacher proceeded, but a minute 
 later Ramsden, the poor steward, got up in his seat 
 with a smothered exclamation and began fumbling 
 for his hat ; then he looked at John, listened a little 
 while, and finally stepped into the aisle and made 
 for the door, banging it resentfully after him as he 
 retired. 
 
 The young preacher broke out into a cold sweat, 
 and before he had got another dozen sentences out, 
 he noticed that two or three persons had turned half- 
 round, and were glancing resentfully at the Wheelers' 
 pew. The super. 's wife and daughter had their heads 
 down, and were looking exceedingly embarrassed. 
 In the Wheelers' pew six pairs of eyes were fixed 
 on him with close, sympathetic attention, and this 
 gave him heart again. A moment later he perceived 
 Bowden standing up in his pew and looking round 
 upon his fellow- worshippers with pious protest in his 
 eyes. Distracted by these unwonted signs of dis- 
 approval John stopped, and his mind and memory 
 became complete blanks. 
 
 " Thar't reet, lad ! Go on wi' thee ! " shouted old 
 Crake from the free seats ; and as Bowden sank dis- 
 gustedly into his place, John resumed his discourse. 
 With sudden and strange confidence, he laid bare 
 the secret spring of uncharitableness, and, warming to 
 his work, with bravery now almost reckless, he sent 
 home-thrust after home-thrust at his startled hearers, 
 and then with a sudden pathetic break in his voice, 
 he began to plead for forbearance and consideration, 
 and mutual loyalty, finishing at length, in a voice 
 almost choked with emotion, with that exquisite 
 entreaty of St. Paul's — 
 
 " Let all bitterness, and wrath, and clamour, and 
 evil-speaking be put away from you, with all malice : 
 And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, for-
 
 A CIRCUIT MINISTER 249 
 
 giving one another, even as God for Christ's sake 
 hath forgiven you." 
 
 A small crowd gathered, with eyes still shining, at 
 the foot of the pulpit stairs, and enthusiastically 
 shook the preacher's hand and blessed him. 
 
 " Let's see, charity's another name for love, isn't 
 it ? " giggled Bradshaw, the society steward, as he 
 bent over the vestry table counting the collection. 
 
 " Ay, but Lady Mary 'ull want summat warmer 
 nor charity," grinned Smales, his colleague. 
 
 John glanced from one to the other of the officials 
 with a look of mystified anxiety, and then as the 
 meaning of their coarse jokes flashed upon him he 
 turned and rushed, hatless as he was, out of the back 
 entrance and home to his own study.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WHAT TOOK PLACE AT THE QUARTERLY MEETING 
 
 " She did ! She said it ! She just stood there on 
 the rug and twisted her gloves like that (suiting the 
 action to the word), and then she said, * He's the 
 manliest man I ever knew,' and then by all that's 
 wonderful, she blushed ! " 
 
 " Betty ! " 
 
 " She did ! My stars, Parson Ledger, but you 
 must be a paragon ! I never saw her blush before." 
 
 "Never?" 
 
 "Never; not even when your illustrious prede- 
 cessor proposed to her. How do I know ? I saw 
 them, though they didn't see me. I couldn't help 
 it, really — a — a — 7 didn't like your sermon." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "It made me feel mean. I like sermons that make 
 me feel teary and comfortable — but the dinner will 
 be in, come along." 
 
 But John was in no mood for dining out that day ; 
 he resisted both the entreaties and the high-flown 
 threats of his visitor, and fed on toast-water and 
 biscuits the rest of the day. His poor little sermon 
 had complicated matters indeed, as he might have 
 known it would. It had, he felt certain, driven 
 waverers into the camp of the enemy. They evi- 
 dently regarded him as an interested partisan of the 
 Wheelers, and his discourse as an open declaration 
 of war. They had associated him with the peerless
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 251 
 
 Mary, and any action he might take in defence of his 
 friends would be discounted and misunderstood. He 
 could not think any longer of resisting the proposals 
 of his super, under these circumstances ; what a 
 bungler he was ! instead of mending m.atters he had 
 made them infinitely worse. Mary Wheeler ! that 
 incomparable woman's name, linked with that of a 
 man already engaged to be married ! He writhed at 
 the thought of it, and stamped on the floor in the 
 bitter anguish of his spirit. 
 
 He resolved once over to go to the officials who 
 had flung the cruel innuendo a.t him, and argue 
 them out of their monstrous delusion, but the very 
 vehemence of his effort, he reflected, would only 
 strengthen their suspicions and justify their sneers. 
 Presently he grew calmer ; he had done his duty 
 and would leave the rest. Nothing strengthened 
 suspicion so much as incessant denial. He would 
 therefore, for their own sakes, leave the Wheelers 
 alone, and — yes — he would get some friend to invite 
 Sallie over and make it abundantly clear, by this 
 means, how foolish and unworthy the slander was. But 
 when he thought of Sallie, he was conscious of a very 
 curious feeling ; a sense, somehow, that it would be 
 unjust to her to bring her into comparison with the 
 lovely mistress of number seven. And then his heart 
 misgave him, the old doubts and fears he had fought 
 down so often came to the surface again, and he 
 tramped about the room and wrung his hands and 
 sent up little snatches of pra3'er, until, before he 
 realised it, it was time to go to Bellerly-green, where 
 he was expected for the evening service. 
 
 Monday morning brought him a small shoal of 
 letters — anonymous — anent the previous morning's 
 sermon, and later on a visit and a sharp rebuke from 
 his super. 
 
 The following Thursday morning, as he sat at his
 
 252 THE MINDER 
 
 desk, vainly trying to forget his perplexities in work, 
 a knock came at the door, and 'Cilia, the little maid 
 who waited upon him, came in to say that a gentle- 
 man wanted to see him, and after making her 
 announcement she held on to the door knob, and 
 projecting her body as far into the room as she could, 
 she continued in an impressive, confidential whisper — 
 
 "A Catholic priest, sir." 
 
 '' Show him in, 'Cilia," said John, turning his head 
 and laying down his pen. 
 
 The "priest" seemed in a violent hurry, for he came 
 bounding up the narrow staircase three steps at a 
 time, and burst into the room with a noisy — 
 
 '* Here we are again, Johannes ! What cheer, my 
 hearty ? " 
 
 " Max 1 " cried John, in eager surprise, and then, 
 as he eyed his friend over from top to toe, he cried 
 *' Max ! " again. 
 
 *' 'Tis he ; 'tis he ! The same bad penny turning 
 up again ! " and rushing up to him he gave his hand 
 a boisterous shake, and thrusting him back into his 
 chair, looked him over with hungry affection. 
 
 " But, Max, this is never you ? Where's your 
 coming down to the masses now ? Where's your 
 doing in Rome as Rome does ? Where are those 
 worldly togs, and where, oh where, is that cherished 
 moustache ? " 
 
 Max's appearance fully justified his friend's amaze- 
 ment, for he had got himself up in the most extreme 
 ritualistic attire — broad-brimmed, low-crowned, 
 rosetted soft hat ; long, black, ultra-clerical coat ; 
 cassock vest, and stock to match ; a little gold cross, 
 hanging pendant and prominent on his long-hair 
 watch-chain ; and his upper lip as bare as a table top. 
 
 " Yes, my ancient and only," he said, perching 
 himself like a wheedling school-girl on the creaking 
 arm of John's basket-chair. " We live and learn, my
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 253 
 
 inseparable. Our beloved people are babies, and 
 must be taught in symbols. From the Pope at one 
 end to General Booth on the other, we are all 
 symbolists. The great things in all great religions 
 are the symbols. To the masses the abstract is the 
 incomprehensible ; it is the concrete, the palpable, 
 they understand. He taught them in parables, and 
 so must we." 
 
 John laughed again, and after ringing for a cup of 
 bovril, he unearthed from behind a pile of books a 
 little tin biscuit box, and bade his friend help himself. 
 Whilst the appetising drink was being prepared down- 
 stairs. Max stepped from his perch and began to 
 explore the room. He scrutinised the pictures on 
 the walls, picked up and carefully examined every 
 knicknack he could lay his hands upon, and finally 
 put his long, black, gold-headed cane into a corner, 
 hung up his hat, and throwing himself into the deep 
 chair John had just vacated, he stretched out his long 
 limbs until he had effectually blocked the approach 
 to the fire. 
 
 " Yes, my only one," he resumed, puckering 
 his brow as he usually did when about to an- 
 nounce his last and greatest discovery, "you rabid 
 Protestants can see nothing in Romanism but 
 superstition and flummery ; but there's a great deal 
 more in it than you imagine, I can tell you." 
 
 "For instance?" asked John, as he handed him 
 the bovril. 
 
 " For instance — hand over the biscuits — we'll take 
 that thing which most of all shocks the souls of you 
 hide-bound respectables. Why, man, there's more 
 wisdom in it than in the whole policy of Methodism." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " The celibacy of the clergy ! Wisdom, sir ! 
 Why, it's too great to be a mere human invention ; 
 it's a Divine inspiration, sir ! "
 
 254 THE MINDER 
 
 " W-h-e-w ! " and John laughed in amused 
 astonishment. 
 
 " It is, I tell you ! Why, since I entered the 
 work three months and a fortnight since, I've made 
 several marvellous discoveries, but that is the greatest 
 of them all." 
 
 " And the newest, I suppose," laughed Ledger 
 again. 
 
 " I mean it, Johannes ; I do ! If a man will do 
 his duty to his Church and the world he must know 
 nothing about wife or family. The Church is his 
 wife ; the people are his family. ' No man going to 
 war entangleth himself.' " 
 
 John, who had thrown himself back upon a couch, 
 was now shaking with laughter.' 
 
 " Oh, Reuben ! unstable as water ! " he cried 
 presently, "which of the six fair charmers has 
 proved cruel now ? It was six, wasn't it ? " 
 
 " Six or sixty, I renounce them all ! I'm a eunuch 
 of the Kingdom of God ! " 
 
 " For how long ? " 
 
 " For ever and for aye. I mean it, man ! Eyes, 
 and dimples, and figures, and wonderful hair are 
 nothing to me now. I have sterner work to do — 
 
 " ' No room for mirth or trifling here.' 
 
 You primrose-on-the-river's-brim sort of fellows may 
 go your own way, but I'm married to Mother Church. 
 I live for my race." 
 
 " ' Lord, I thank Thee that I am not as other men 
 are,'" mocked John. " But what brought you here 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " Yammerings and yearnings, dear boy, to gaze 
 on thy venerable visage." 
 
 " It will be venerable if I mope in this dreary den 
 much longer. What say you to a walk ? "
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 255 
 
 As they climbed the rough rain-channelled lane up 
 the side of Bilberry Hill, Max enlarged still further 
 on his last great resolve. It was not the freak of a 
 moment ; his striking conversions never were. He 
 had seen the necessity more and more for a long 
 time. A married minister was more than half a 
 layman. He could never be the spiritual adviser of 
 the girl to whom he was a possible lover, or the man 
 whose rival or whose son or brother-in-law he might 
 become. This generation, with its wistful private 
 problems and infinite questionings, its needs of and 
 longing for comprehension and sympathy, wanted 
 detachment and disinterestedness in its chosen 
 guides and confidants. The man who would share 
 and relieve the troubles of his fellows must have none 
 of his own to preoccupy him. 
 
 " A heart at leisure from itself 
 To soothe and sympathise," 
 
 was what the times called for. He was evidently in 
 most serious earnest, and every objection raised by 
 his companion had apparently been anticipated, and 
 was most conclusively answered. 
 
 They found the irrepressible Betty waiting for 
 them on their return. She opened her great eyes 
 very wide when she beheld the priestly Max, and 
 though she bowed with punctilious decorum when 
 he was introduced, she made grimaces at him behind 
 his back and included him in the invitation she had 
 brought for " high tea " with most evident reluctance. 
 
 At first Max seemed to object to this bit of dainty 
 earthliness, so far below the lofty moral grandeur of 
 the ideas he had been ventilating in the lane, but in 
 a few moments he was watching her every movement 
 and listening with more than mere polite interest 
 to her audacious little sallies. He ran down the
 
 256 THE MINDER 
 
 stairs to open the door for her when she departed, 
 and appeared not to notice the tell-tale grin on 
 John's face when he returned. John hypocritically 
 attempted to resume the topic they had been dis- 
 cussing, but the exponent of ministerial celibacy 
 seemed to have exhausted himself, and showed faint 
 interest. John showed him a new book, but he 
 slipped it down under the table almost before his friend's 
 back was turned, and did not seem at all interested in 
 the subject of the approaching Probationers' Examina- 
 tions. Presently he flung himself down on the little 
 hard sofa, and began to kick his long legs about inmost 
 characteristic restlessness. Then in a studiously 
 indifferent voice he inquired if there were any 
 decent folk amongst the Partidge Methodists, and 
 John gave a detailed and exhaustive account of the 
 chief families in his church, mischievously omitting 
 any reference to the Wheelers or even to Betty. 
 'Cilia came in to set the table for dinner, and when 
 she had gone. Max sat up on the sofa and declared 
 that he really wished they had not accepted the 
 invitation out, he would very much rather have had a 
 quiet evening to themselves. John ought, of course, 
 to have pooh-poohed the idea, and told him all 
 about the family they were about to visit, but with a 
 perversity little short of maliciousness, he simply 
 pointed out that there was no decent way out of it. 
 
 Max grumbled that he had come to see John and 
 not to sit twiddling his thumbs in a spruced-up 
 drawing-room with a match-making mamma and a 
 swarm of giggling daughters. 
 
 The obtuse John rang the bell and went over to 
 his desk. 
 
 " What's up now ? " cried Max, suddenly sitting 
 up and watching his friend selecting notepaper. 
 
 " ril just drop a note and ask them to excuse us ; 
 it will be all right, I dare say."
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 257 
 
 Max stood a moment in tantalising perplexity, 
 and then as 'Cilia came into the room he shouted : 
 " No, no ! it's all right, my girl ; we don't want 
 anything now " ; and as the little domestic dis- 
 appeared he sprang upon John, and seizing him by 
 the throat he cried : " You aggravating beast ! You 
 torturer ! Sit down here and tell me all about them." 
 
 John's description of the Wheelers, though it took 
 ten minutes to give, proved painfully bald and incom- 
 plete, and for the next half-hour he was subject to a 
 searching series of questions which came very well 
 indeed from the lofty celibate of the morning. Max 
 was ready to go long before the time fixed, and 
 fumed and fidgeted until John started earlier than 
 was necessary and took a roundabout way so as not 
 to arrive too punctually. That night Max surpassed 
 himself, and took the Wheelers literally by storm. 
 He and Betty were hand and glove in half an hour. 
 She beat him at billiards, gave him a special button- 
 hole of her own selection, asked him riddles until his 
 head ached, coaxed him into singing a very innocent 
 and ancient humorous song, and finally shocked all 
 present by addressing him as " Father Max." The 
 male Wheelers seemed as much taken by their 
 vivacious visitor as was Betty, and outdid themselves 
 in hearty Lancashire cordiality. The evening was 
 gone all too soon, and when after a scratch supper 
 the men folk dropped into social and political topics 
 there was mutual delight at the discovery that on all 
 important points they were absolutely agreed. The 
 only thing that surprised John was that, as he 
 watched his friend's very evident enjoyment, he 
 noticed that he seemed almost oblivious of the chief 
 person in the house — the queenly Mary. 
 
 Max seemed scarcely to see her, and " carried 
 on " with Betty in a manner that would have alarmed 
 him if he had not known him so well. 
 
 M. S
 
 258 THE MINDER 
 
 " Come again, sir," said Mr. Wheeler heartily, as 
 he helped Max on with his coat. 
 
 " Yes, come again, and soon," chimed in the 
 brothers enthusiastically. 
 
 " Don't come again ; you bore me ! " screamed 
 Betty halfway up the staircase, where she had 
 retreated to be out of his reach. 
 
 " Wesleyan ministers never come at the wrong 
 time here, sir. Do take the muffler ; it is foggy 
 outside," said the quieter elder sister ; and John, 
 who was watching the adjustment of the muffler 
 with envious feelings, wondered to himself that Max 
 had nothing to say to this of all women. 
 
 Ledger expected that his voluble and excited 
 friend would plunge into extravagant praise of the 
 Wheelers as soon as they were alone, and when they 
 had reached the bottom of Shuttle Hill, and were 
 turning into Broad Street without a word having 
 been spoken, he glanced up at his companion's face 
 and was puzzled to find it puckered into a prodigious 
 frown of moody preoccupation. He was conscious, 
 also, that the easy pace at which they had started 
 had already increased into a rapid stride. 
 
 " Well, you've had a jolly time, at any rate," he 
 ventured at last. 
 
 But Max was staring before him with frowning 
 brow, in deep thought. 
 
 " They are everything they appear to be, and 
 more, but why this break-neck pace ? " 
 
 As John laid his hand upon him, Max pulled up, 
 scowled perplexedly at him, and then, with a sudden 
 start, strode away faster than ever. 
 
 " Max, you stupid, stop ! We are not going to 
 catch a train." 
 
 " Eh, what ! Catching a train ? " 
 
 Slowly he seemed to realise where he was, and 
 dropped into an easier pace ; but in a moment or
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 259 
 
 two he was striding away as fast as ever, with 
 gathered brow and dazed, far-away looks. 
 
 In despair of getting anything satisfactory out of 
 the mad fellow, John allowed him to go his way. At 
 the end of Broad Street, however, he saw him taking 
 the wrong turn, and rushing after him, and seizing 
 him by the arm and giving him a hearty shake, he 
 brought him to a standstill. 
 
 Max looked dazedly around for a moment, laughed 
 apologetically, took his friend's arm, and made for 
 the road where John's lodgings were situated. 
 
 "Betty's a character, isn't she?" said John, as 
 they went along. 
 
 "No — yes! — that is — what did you say, old 
 fellow ? " 
 
 " I say you're dotty, that's what I say." 
 
 " Yes, of course. Ah, ah — dotty, did you say ? " 
 
 " For goodness sake. Max, what is the matter? " 
 
 They had reached the terrace where John lived, 
 and had unconsciously come to a standstill. 
 
 Max gazed around him with a dazed, wandering 
 look, first on the dim street lights, and then up at 
 the distant stars. He bent forward and surveyed the 
 whole row of houses near them as if he were counting 
 them, and then, scowling down at John, he asked in 
 bewilderment — 
 
 " What were you saying ? " 
 
 " I was saying that you are demented, moonstruck, 
 dotty. That's what I was saying." 
 
 Max appeared to realise everything all at once. 
 He looked long and dreely at John, scrutinised 
 the street lamps again, glanced up into the murky 
 darkness, and then at the mud under their feet, and 
 speaking in awed, tremulous undertones, he put his 
 face close to John's, and said breathlessly — 
 
 " John, I've met my fate to-night ! " 
 
 John's laugh pealed down the silent street, and he 
 
 S 2
 
 26o THE MINDER 
 
 caught the mooning fellow by the arm and dragged 
 him indoors. 
 
 John felt a little annoyed. He was quite accus- 
 tomed to the wild rhapsodies of his friend, and knew 
 and loved the heart of gold that was underneath 
 them, but it seemed to him indecent for a young 
 minister of six-and-twenty to be going into these 
 wild ravings about a mere girl of sixteen. There was 
 no knowing what the impetuous fellow might do, and 
 it would be a sin to allow him to put notions into 
 Betty's innocent little head. And so he determined 
 he would speak to his mercurial friend and put a stop 
 to matters before any mischief was done. But when 
 he arose next morning with this intention in his mind, 
 Max had disappeared, and though at first he was 
 inclined to fear that he might have sallied forth to 
 the Wheelers', on some mad errand, early as it was, 
 he soon discovered from 'Cilia that he had taken his 
 departure, and though a little puzzled, he was on the 
 whole relieved and thankful. On the following 
 Monday, however. Max turned up again and dragged 
 John off, nolens volens, to number seven. John had 
 a preaching appointment that night, and was com- 
 pelled to leave his friend to enjoy himself. On his 
 way back he called at the super. 's, and what he 
 heard there about the growing opposition in the 
 circuit against his friends so occupied his mind that 
 his intended straight talk with Max was forgotten, 
 and, in fact, as they sat over the fire at his lodgings 
 in the small hours, John told his chum the whole 
 stor)' ; and Max's indignation, which flamed up now, 
 as always, against wrongdoing, excluded every other 
 topic, and it was some consolation to him to find 
 that his friend's judgment supported him in all he 
 had done. 
 
 "Well," said Max, when they had talked the 
 matter out, " you can't oppose your super., you know,
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 261 
 
 and it would do no good if you did, but you must 
 take blessed good care that you make your real 
 feelings clear to the Wheelers." 
 
 John seemed to think that was only a poor sort of 
 consolation after all, and when the other left him next 
 day, he found it impossible to settle down to work. 
 The matter seemed the worse to him because he could 
 not help admitting that on the surface, at least, there 
 was some justification for the super.'s attitude. Mr. 
 Wheeler was not exactly what would be called a 
 spiritually-minded man ; there was a hard, commer- 
 cial ring about all his conversation, even on the 
 most sacred topics. His face amply justified the 
 suspicion that he was not sufficiently temperate, and 
 as John was an ardent teetotaller himself, it appeared 
 to him that the chief layman of the circuit ought to 
 be above suspicion on that point. Of the hints about 
 financial difficulty he could, of course, form no 
 opinion, but rumours of that kind had, in his experi- 
 ence, an awkward habit of proving substantial. It 
 appeared very mean even to think like this about 
 people from whom he had received so many kind- 
 nesses, but he knew, on the other hand, that he was 
 facing in this case one of the commonest tests of 
 ministerial loyalty. The following Monday was the 
 Quarterly meeting, and John spent the intervening 
 time alternately resolving that he would not go near 
 his friends until after it was over, and then rebuking 
 himself for lack of gratitude and manliness. The 
 result was that he found himself at number seven 
 several times during the remaining days. 
 
 "I saw the super, this morning," said Mary Wheeler, 
 as she handed John his tea on one of these evenings. 
 " He looks more worried than you. We must be 
 dreadful people to manage in Partidge. 
 
 "You are," said John playfully, "but I think the 
 super, is troubled about his daughter."
 
 262 THE MINDER 
 
 Mr. Wheeler, who sat nearer the fire, and had 
 not appeared to be Hstening, cocked an inquiring eye 
 at his guest, and Mary said, in a sympathetic tone — 
 
 " Is she no better, then ? " 
 
 " She cannot be better without a very difficult and 
 expensive operation." 
 
 Mary's eyes travelled towards her apparently 
 indifferent parent, and then she asked — 
 
 " How do you mean ? " 
 
 " Miss Irene is so fragile that they fear the result 
 of an operation unless it could be done by some 
 specialist, and that, of course, is beyond them." 
 
 " But " and Mary, glancing past John, looked 
 
 at her father again, and stopped, and then, after 
 watching him a moment, deftly changed the subject. 
 
 Two days later the super., looking younger than 
 he had done for some time, came smiling into John's 
 study and informed him that a gracious Providence 
 had interfered to help him, and that Sir Edward 
 Swaine, the famous Manchester surgeon, had offered 
 through Dr. Markham, the local physician, to per- 
 form the operation on Miss Irene without charge. 
 The conversation with the Wheelers flashed into 
 John's mind, and he nearly blurted out his guess; 
 but the super, seemed so certain that it was some 
 peculiarity in the disease which had reached the 
 great man's ears and excited his curiosity, that he 
 had not the heart to express what were, after all, 
 only suspicions ; and when he called at number seven 
 and " fished," they were all so very innocent that 
 he understood that if they had anything to do 
 with it they wished things to remain as they were. 
 All the same, the signs made him confident he was 
 not mistaken, and the position seemed to him to be 
 becoming unendurable, whilst a conversation he had 
 with Mary Wheeler that very night further increased 
 his embarrassment.
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 263 
 
 ''That is a great kindness your father is doing for 
 the Holts," he said, when he and Mary were left 
 alone for a few minutes. 
 
 " Oh, it is like him ; he thinks of everybody 
 but himself," she replied, as though what John 
 had hinted at was the most everyday affair 
 possible. 
 
 "You admire your father, Miss Wheeler," he said 
 approvingly. 
 
 " Admire is a very poor word, Mr. Ledger. Why, 
 sir, father is my ideal man ! " 
 
 John was both puzzled and disappointed; he had 
 given her credit for more discernment than that. He 
 was interested, however, and so he made a perilous 
 venture. 
 
 " He is not what you would call a great Christian. 
 I suppose a man with his commercial experiences 
 scarcely could be, eh ? " 
 
 It was a foolish, clumsy sort of remark, but Mary 
 had very keen religious sympathies and spoke very 
 openly on all such matters, and yet he felt he was 
 treading on dangerous ground. 
 
 " Father ! " cried Mary, opening her large expres- 
 sive eyes in most genuine astonishment. " Why, 
 father's a saint, Mr. Ledger ! a lowly saint ! far 
 away the best man I ever knew," and then she 
 broke off with a recollecting laugh. " I see how it 
 is ; he's been opening his mind to you. Well, that 
 is a compliment." 
 
 " Mr. Wheeler has never spoken to me about his 
 own religious life." 
 
 " Hasn't he ? then he will do ; for he's taken to 
 you wonderfully, and so you had better be prepared 
 or he will surprise you — and deceive you." 
 
 " Deceive me ! " 
 
 " Yes ; don't you know ? He thinks he's an awful 
 hypocrite and a disgrace to his church. He'd give
 
 264 THE MINDER " 
 
 anything to be cut of office ; v/e have to frighten him 
 into retaining it." 
 
 John really began to wonder whether he was not 
 dreaming, but Mary, as if she were retailing the 
 absurdest of jokes, went on — 
 
 " That's why he goes to old Crake's class ; he 
 always scolds him." 
 
 " Crake's class ! Your father meets with the super." 
 
 " Yes, he subscribes and is counted in that class, 
 but he attends Crake's, down in Bobbin Alley. 
 Old Crake is one of father's pensioners, you know, 
 but he talks to dad in class as though he were a 
 hardened, worldly-minded sinner, and father likes it, 
 and thinks old Crake and his members saints." 
 
 " But old Crake is not a lit person to lead your 
 father!" 
 
 " Isn't he, though ! You'd think he was if you saw 
 them together. He calls father by his christian 
 name, orders him to pray in class, and if he is 
 absent, he comes here and scolds him for 'running 
 with the giddy multitude to do evil ' until that 
 ridiculous man looks as thoroughl}' ashamed as if he 
 had been caught in the act of theft." 
 
 John left number seven that night more perplexed 
 than ever. Mary Wheeler was too clear-eyed to be 
 deceived and too honest to practise deceit. If Mr. 
 Wheeler was what she had described him to be, it 
 was very strange that those who had known him so 
 long should have formed such totally different 
 opinions about him. 
 
 Early on Monday morning he hastened to the 
 Manse to make one last appeal to the super. Before 
 he had got many words out the senior minister 
 interrupted him by stating that it was now too late. 
 Mr. Wheeler's designated successor had been spoken 
 to, and had consented to stand. And then he 
 explained, with a little show of importance, that the
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 265 
 
 specialist was expected for the operation, and some- 
 what brusquely dismissed his colleague. The tea 
 before the Quarterly meeting was more largely 
 attended than the previous one, at which John had 
 been present for the first time, and he noted with 
 uneasy resentment that there was an unusual 
 number of lay preachers and extreme teetotallers 
 present. 
 
 He had resolved, before going, to seat himself at the 
 junior steward's table, but seeing how numerous the 
 opposition was, he took his place defiantly at Mary 
 Wheeler's side, sitting himself intentionally next to 
 her father and returning the significant glances with 
 looks of cold unconcern. When the meeting itself 
 opened, the super, motioned to him to take his place 
 by his side, and John followed the promptings of his 
 own indignant heart by drawing his chair as near as 
 possible to Mr. Wheeler's and putting his arm on 
 that gentleman's chair back. Just as they were 
 commencing business Mr. Wheeler got up, and in a 
 few sympathetic words congratulated the chairman 
 on the successful operation that had taken place that 
 day and the encouraging reports they had of the 
 patient, and John watched with increasing astonish- 
 ment the impassive face of the senior steward as the 
 super, explained how much he and his daughter were 
 indebted to the generosity of the eminent scientist 
 who had performed the operation. 
 
 Somebody was beginning to say that a resolution of 
 thanks ought to be sent to "Sir Edward," but Mr. 
 Wheeler somewhat unceremoniously interrupted him, 
 and the meeting passed to the business of the day. 
 Presently the question for which they were all waiting 
 was reached, and a complete silence fell on the gather- 
 ing as the chairman rose to introduce the election of 
 stewards. He had a sort of pained smile about his 
 pale lips, but his face was hard and white. A hasty
 
 266 THE MINDER 
 
 glance round the room revealed to John that whilst 
 the uninitiated were looking up with pleasant interest, 
 the majority held their heads a little down. 
 
 "We now come to the election of stewards," said 
 the super., speaking with some effort. " As you are 
 aware, gentlemen, our dear friend Mr. Wheeler has 
 held this office for eighteen years, and you will all 
 bear me out that he has done his work with his 
 accustomed zeal and ability. (Hear, hear ! ) Mr. 
 Wheeler does everything he undertakes well, but you 
 will all agree with me that he has never distinguished 
 himself in anything more than in the painstaking 
 and, in fact, brilliant service he has rendered as the 
 chief lay officer of this circuit. (More responses.) 
 But our dear friend is, as you all know, an 
 exceedingly busy man, and is occupied in all sorts of 
 important offices and duties. It appears to me that 
 for his sake and our own we ought not to overwork 
 the willing horse. I propose, therefore, to release 
 our dear friend from this particular appointment 
 (dead silence), and give him a well-earned, though, I 
 hope, only temporary rest." 
 
 John, whose head was on his chest, shot from 
 under his eyebrows a quick glance at Mr. Wheeler, 
 and noted that he seemed to be listening with a 
 bland, ingenuous smile. 
 
 " Before we proceed any further, however," the 
 super, went on, " I am sure it will be your wish to 
 mark your sense of Mr. Wheeler's valuable services 
 by a hearty vote of thanks. You would all like to 
 speak to a resolution of this kind, I know, but perhaps 
 I shall meet your wishes if I ask his old friend and 
 former colleague Mr. Bullough to move a resolution." 
 
 Bullough, a short, nervous little man, who was 
 evidently prepared for the call, rose, and in ful- 
 some, extravagant terms moved the vote, which 
 was seconded immediately and doubly supported,
 
 THE QUARTERLY MEETING 267 
 
 and the resolution was just being put when Collier, 
 the junior steward, broke in with an alarmed — 
 
 " Wait a moment, Mr. Super." 
 
 At this point Wheeler leaned over, and, with a 
 whispered exhortation, tried to induce his friend to 
 resume his seat. 
 
 " No, no ! " cried Collier excitedly ; " I don't 
 understand this, and I don't hke it either. If he 
 goes out, / go out, that's all." 
 
 Wheeler again tried to pacify his friend, and the 
 chairman, whose face had become flushed, begged 
 him to wait a moment until the resolution had been 
 put. When that had been done, it was carried with 
 great show of cordiality ; and the super., in a long 
 and not very coherent speech, begged the senior 
 steward's acceptance of the vote. As John glanced 
 at the man who stood to receive these long and 
 strained compliments, he was amazed to find neither 
 surprise nor resentment in his face, but only an 
 uncomfortable and shamed impatience, as though 
 he were anxious to get the ordeal over. A significant 
 stillness fell all at once on the company, and men 
 held their breath to listen. 
 
 " I thank you, Mr. Super, and brethren, for your 
 kind words," began Mr. Wheeler. " I'm glad you 
 have put me out, for I should never have resigned. 
 I owe all I have and am to Methodism, and was 
 proud to serve her. But I have always felt I was 
 not worthy. I stayed in so long to please my dear 
 ones, and — a — a — help a bit. May God forgive me, 
 and make me a better man ! " 
 
 The speaker paused here a moment, and John, 
 watching the man thrust thus meanly out of office, 
 felt a lump rise in his throat, whilst his surprise- 
 widened eyes shone with moist light ; but Wheeler 
 was speaking again. 
 
 " Of course I cannot hand over the books with
 
 68 THE MINDER 
 
 a deficit, so I'll wipe off the little balance, and if 
 you, Mr. Super., will just dot down the little bits 
 o' debts on the circuit chapels, I'll — I'll see to 'em 
 as a bit of a thank-offering." 
 
 There was a suspicious sniffing in several parts 
 of the room as the man who appeared to John at 
 that moment the biggest soul present sank shyly 
 into his seat, and as the chairman, abashed and con- 
 fused, rose to continue the business, a muttering 
 broke out amongst the back seats ; two or three 
 rose to their feet, and snatched their hats from 
 overhanging pegs and made for the door. 
 
 "Stop! stop, brethren!" cried the super., in sudden 
 alarm. " We have not finished." 
 
 "Yes you have!" shouted Rippon, a country 
 official, turning round as he reached the door. 
 "You've done now! There's nothing else you 
 could do to hurt the circuit and shame yourselves. 
 You've done ! You've done ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 
 
 The Quarterly meeting proved long and stormy. 
 Collier, the junior steward, surprised and angry at 
 the unexpected treatment of his partner in office, 
 refused point-blank to continue his services ; and 
 the super., nonplussed and agitated, was compelled 
 to amend his plans. Bowden, Mr. Wheeler's 
 brother-in-law, had to be made senior steward ; 
 but nobody seemed willing to join him. Name 
 after name was suggested, but promptly withdrawn 
 by the person concerned, and finally John beheld 
 the edifying spectacle of the ousted steward coming 
 to the rescue of his enemies and appealing to the love 
 and loyalty of his brethren not to let so important 
 an office go a-begging. Finally, and after almost 
 humiliating pressure, Ramsden, the St. Mary's Society 
 steward, was pushed into the vacant position, and 
 one of the most unpleasant meetings in the history 
 of Partidge Methodism broke up a little before eleven. 
 Late as it was, John felt he must see his ill-used friend 
 home. They walked in silence until they came to the 
 gate of number seven, and then, unable to contain 
 himself any longer, John burst out — 
 
 " Mr. Wheeler, you're a mystery to me ! " 
 
 The manufacturer took his cigar out of his mouth, 
 looked at his companion with mild surprise, and then 
 said — 
 
 " How so ? "
 
 270 THE MINDER 
 
 ** Well, sir, if you're not the cleverest of all clever 
 rogues, you're the highest-minded man I ever knew." 
 
 " I'm a rogue, sure enough, but not a clever one. 
 Come in." 
 
 Paul Wheeler, the eldest son, had been at the 
 meeting, and so, as they entered the dining-room, 
 they saw at once that all present knew of what 
 had taken place. That they felt it was also clear, 
 though all outward signs were carefully suppressed. 
 Mary, whose eyes looked dim, gave her father a quiet 
 lingering kiss, Paul flashed a look that told of glow- 
 ing pride in his parent, whilst the others, without 
 speaking a word, made it abundantly clear to John 
 that they understood his awkward position in the 
 matter, and appreciated his quiet sympathy. The 
 conversation over the supper table was a little con- 
 strained, until the uncontrollable Betty set everybody 
 laughing by declaring that she intended to join the 
 Christadelphians who had lately come to town ; and 
 then she went off into a mimic representation of 
 " Uncle Bowden's " sanctimonious mannerisms 
 which convulsed the whole party. 
 
 " It is a little unexpected," admitted Mary, as 
 she stood holding John's overcoat in the hall ; " but 
 I don't think it need make any difference to the cause. 
 It isn't as if we were leaving the place, is it ? " 
 
 And John, afraid to trust himself just then, rushed 
 into the darkness without even a formal "good-night." 
 
 And that was the last he ever heard of the nasty 
 business from the Wheelers, though the circuit 
 seemed as though it would never let it drop. 
 
 Ten hard, harassing weeks passed away, and the 
 young parson found himself the prey of many 
 anxieties. By their invitation, Sallie had visited 
 the Wheelers during the Christmas holidays, and 
 seemed at first highly delighted with her reception. 
 During the second week, however, she grew petulant
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 271 
 
 and sulky with John, and more than once snubbed 
 the volatile Betty. Of Mary Wheeler she seemed to 
 stand in awe, but did her best to get up a little 
 flirtation with Mark, the second son. The day 
 before her departure she threw decorum to the 
 winds and invaded her lover's study. She charged 
 him with neglecting her, tore to pieces a little 
 bouquet which Betty had brought the day before, 
 and finally told him, with flaming eyes, that she did 
 not love him and never had done, but that she would 
 make him marry her or spoil his life. 
 
 It was never very difficult for John to hold his 
 tongue, and he did so now, especially as this open 
 and coarse attack had revealed to him the awful 
 abyss on the verge of which he stood. That he did 
 not love Sallie as he ought to do, and once had done, 
 he knew perfectly well ; he knew just as certainly 
 that he intended to marry her, but whether he or 
 she was to blame for the change was not so clear, 
 and that it was right to marry under such circum- 
 stances was less clear still. These things made a 
 difficulty sufficiently serious, but there was some- 
 thing else behind them all, deeper and darker, 
 something so shocking, in fact, that he dared not 
 allow it to take definite shape in his mind, but day 
 by day he was conscious that it was growing and 
 insisting, in spite of him, upon being recognised. 
 Why had he changed towards Sallie ? and would 
 the change ever have been the decided thing it was if 
 he had never met — but there he always pulled up. 
 
 And to these worries were added a number of 
 smaller ones. The super, was beginning to repent 
 of having removed Mr. Wheeler from office, and 
 John was already in fear of a rupture between his 
 colleague and the chief layman he had been so 
 anxious to get into office. He was troubled also 
 about Max's proceedings. That volatile young man
 
 272 THE MINDER 
 
 came to Partidge once a week now, or oftener, and 
 John knew by past experiences that he could not be 
 properly prepared for the approaching probationers' 
 examinations. He found, also, some difficulty in 
 retaining his respect for a man who seemed so utterly 
 carried away by an inconsequent young creature like 
 Betty. Not that that gay young person seemed any 
 the worse for the experience ; she seemed absolutely 
 unspoilable, and made no secret whatever of her 
 capricious but perfectly honest and innocent fondness 
 for Ringley. The Wheelers, too, seemed to John 
 culpably heedless on the point ; and he could not 
 for the life of him understand how it was that, when 
 he had on one occasion hinted his fears to Mary, she 
 had looked at him so scrutinisingly and then laughed 
 with most evident amusement. In this case, how- 
 ever, he had got a step further than mere broodings, 
 and had sent a long and painfully candid letter to 
 his friend, and when he came in one morning from his 
 before-breakfast walk, the reply was waiting for him. 
 
 He could not help smiling at the scrawly flourishes 
 on the envelope, so characteristic as they were of the 
 writer, but when he had slit the packet open the 
 short note within turned his amusement into helpless 
 perplexity. 
 
 He was addressed as " Dear, double-blinded old 
 Dunder-head," and then there was Betty's name 
 and a long line of increasingly elongated notes of 
 exclamation ; and then " Betty " again, and a similar 
 rearguard of expression points. Then there was a 
 grotesque pen-and-ink sketch of Max doubled up on 
 a sofa, and opening a huge cavernous mouth in 
 uncontrollable laughter. The girl's name appeared 
 again with an hyphen between each letter, and the 
 whole underscored half-an-inch deep, and at last a 
 few plain words — 
 
 " Even the much-beloved examinations must stand
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 273 
 
 aside. Tell the lovely 'Cilia to lay a plate for me 
 for dinner. 
 
 " Yours in shrieking convulsions, 
 
 ''The Old 'Un." 
 
 John laughed ; it was a characteristic epistle 
 certainly, but what on earth did it mean ? He 
 propped it up wide open against the toast rack, and 
 poured out the coffee. Then he glanced round for 
 the cream, but his eyes got no farther than the 
 hieroglyphic epistle, and he sat staring at it in 
 bewilderment that was almost ridiculous. Then he 
 commenced again with his food, but not a ray of 
 illumination could he get out of the cryptic docu- 
 ment ; and he was just turning his eyes away, when 
 he observed another letter lying where he had found 
 the first, and which he must have overlooked. This, 
 on opening, proved to be written in a neat but unmas- 
 culine hand, which he thought he knew, and after 
 glancing at the flowery headline and then at the 
 signatures, for there were two, he read — 
 
 ** Dear Mr. Ledger, 
 
 "It is our duty to inform you that, for 
 reasons you will probably guess, we do not think it 
 advisable that you should continue in the circuit 
 after Conference. As Circuit Stewards we shall 
 not, therefore, offer you the usual invitation at the 
 approaching Quarterly Meeting. We deeply regret 
 having to take this course, but we trust and pray 
 that the painful discipline may bring forth its fruit 
 in your future career. 
 
 " With earnest prayer and devout good wishes for 
 your future usefulness, 
 " We are, 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 *' P. J. Bowden, ] Circuit 
 Tubal Ramsdeh,] Stewards." 
 
 M. T
 
 274 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 There was no more breakfast for Ledger. It only 
 needed this to fill up the cup of his bitterness, and 
 so he pushed back his chair and laughed a hard, 
 angry laugh. No man ever had higher ideals of 
 ministerial life and duty than he : no man was ever 
 more thoroughly satisfied of his call ; and yet he had 
 got entangled in difficulties which in another man he 
 would have regarded as evidences of weakness or 
 something worse; and his first circuit rejected him on 
 the earliest possible opportunity. He was not merely 
 disappointed, neither was it simply a return of his 
 old habit of unhealthy self-suspicion. He was angry — 
 hotly, uncontrollably angry. Fate was not simply 
 antagonistic, she was malicious ; cunning malignity 
 could not possibly have invented any concatenation 
 of circumstances more exasperating and shameful. 
 He was not only released from obligation to keep 
 terms with a fate so spiteful : he was rebellious, 
 defiant, desperate. 
 
 He soon forgot the stewards' letter, however, and, 
 deep in the darker perplexities that were filling his 
 life, a sadder mood came upon him, and he began 
 pacing the room and fighting the surly demons 
 which had invaded his innermost life, and made his 
 hot brain a veritable pandemonium. He had done 
 everything, in this love affair of his, which he most 
 condemned and hated ; and was actually in the 
 position he had always contended no straight- 
 forward and honourable man ought or need to 
 be in. 
 
 There was something in the situation that was 
 almost devilish, and he bit his lips and ground 
 his teeth in a perfect frenzy of self-torture. Time, 
 duties, friends, were all forgotten, and he was lying 
 face downwards on the little horse-hair sofa, when he 
 became conscious that some one was in the room, 
 and sitting up, he stared at the friendly face of Max
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 275 
 
 as though he were the very last person in the world 
 he expected to see. 
 
 Max had uttered his usual wild whoop as he 
 ascended the stairs, and had given the closed door a 
 vigorous ran-tan, but John had apparently heard 
 neither, and now regarded his friend as though he 
 were some dreadful apparition. Max's merry face 
 had become long with sudden alarm, a sympathy 
 almost womanly shone in his fine eyes, and in low 
 tones that betrayed the sincerity of his concern, he 
 cried — 
 
 "Johnny, Johnny, dear old boy! Whatever is 
 the matter?" 
 
 John looked up into the anxious face with a dazed 
 look ; then comprehension came back to him, a sense 
 of sudden and sweet relief seemed to pass over him, 
 and lifting his eyes, full of grateful joy, he sank back 
 again upon the couch, and burst into grateful, 
 precious tears. Embarrassed and uncomfortable at 
 the sight of unmanly weeping. Max turned away, 
 took off his coat and hat, and returned to John's 
 side. As he did so, his eyes fell on the stewards' 
 letter lying on the table. There were no secrets 
 between these two, and in a moment more the docu- 
 ment was flying across the room, and Max was stand- 
 ing on the hearthrug with a considerably relieved 
 face. 
 
 "Is that all? Come out, sir, come out!" and 
 seizing John, he dragged him up, and compelled him 
 to show his face. 
 
 " And are you ninny enough to be squelched by that 
 flea-bite? The skunks! The measly, little, blown- 
 out jacks-in-office! I'm ashamed of you. Ledger! 
 Why, man, it's a compliment — the greatest compli- 
 ment they could pay you! Good Lord!" he went 
 on, more to himself than anyone else, " and Metho- 
 dism is governed by fourth -rate little whipper- 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE MINDER 
 
 snappers like these! Come here," and seizing the 
 tongs, he pounced upon the offending letter, held it, 
 with screwed-up nose, as far off as he could, crammed 
 it into the fire, and pulled the burning embers 
 over it. 
 
 Meanwhile John was recovering his self-possession. 
 For the moment he had felt prompted to unburden 
 himself to his friend, but his painful cautiousness 
 checked the impulse, and though thankful and com- 
 forted by his presence, he allowed him to suppose 
 that the letter was the immediate cause of his 
 distress. 
 
 "Cheer up, old buckstick!" cried Max, with a 
 resounding slap on the back. " This isn't like thee! 
 Let the stewards go to the dogs, and the measly 
 circuit too." And then suddenly stopping, and eyeing 
 John over suspiciously, he went on, " There isn't 
 anything else, is there? " 
 
 " I think I must be a bit run down," said John, 
 apologetically. 
 
 ** That's it ! It's those exams., confound 'em. 
 Well, thank goodness, I shall never have that sin 
 laid at my door." 
 
 This was so like the man, and so ridiculously true, 
 that John laughed, and Max, with a great leap, 
 bawled out — 
 
 " Richard is himself again ! " and then, drawing up 
 a chair, he fell to work upon the remains of John's 
 breakfast. 
 
 " You scapegrace ! what's brought you here again 
 so soon?" asked John, as he watched with comfort- 
 ing interest his friend's gastronomical performances. 
 
 "What? Ah, that's good! Ha! ha!" and the 
 crazy fellow went off into another fit of laughter, 
 
 "Johannes," he said gaily, helping himself to 
 butter, " do you know that you have in you the 
 makings of a great philosopher?"
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 277 
 
 John, still sitting with his legs on the sofa, ducked 
 his body in ironical acknowledgment. 
 
 " One of the most indubitable marks of the philo- 
 sopher is wall-eyed, mole-like blindness to the most 
 palpable, plain -as -the -nose -on -your -face facts of 
 ordinary life." 
 
 John bowed again, but there was a glint of curiosity 
 in his eye. 
 
 " You wrote me a solemn, philosopher-like letter 
 about Betty" — and as he mentioned the name he 
 rattled off into another long, noisy laugh. 
 
 " Well ? " and there was the sharpness of impatience 
 in John's tones. 
 
 " You warned me about ' Betty,' and you pleaded 
 like a philosopher about Betty, ' B-e-t-t-y' " — and 
 away he went again in most evident enjoyment of 
 some hidden but delicious joke. 
 
 " Well, why not Betty? " and had Max been less 
 entertained by his own humour, he might have noted 
 an ominous constraint in the other's tones. 
 
 " Why not ? — oh, purbhnd philosopher ! Oh, 
 star-gazing stumbler over mole-hills, thy name is 
 Ledger !" 
 
 " But it is Betty you've been fooling with," and 
 John's very lips were white, if Max had but noticed. 
 
 " Betty," cried he, still revelling in the humour of 
 the situation, "little, innocent Betty! Why, is it 
 possible that thy gerund-grinding brain has never 
 seen that Betty was but a handle, a stepping-stone — 
 the pretty gooseberry and stepping-stone to Mary? " 
 
 "Mary?" 
 
 John had sprung to his feet, and gripping hard at 
 the back of his chair, was glaring at his friend with 
 haggard, ashen-grey face. 
 
 " Don't, Max, don't ! Not Mary ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mary, of course. The peerless, the incom- 
 parable Good heavens, Ledger ! What's up ? "
 
 278 THE MINDER 
 
 John stared at the now thoroughly frightened Max 
 for a moment, and then dropping back helplessly upon 
 the couch, he gasped in choking, terrified tones — 
 
 " Oh, Max, Max ! I love her myself! " 
 
 Horror, shame, and intense alarm expressed them- 
 selves on the almost ghastly face at which Max now 
 gaped dumbfounded. A moment earlier John would 
 have denied the fact he had just blurted out, but the 
 utterly unexpected announcement had revealed it to 
 him, and surprised the confession out of him. For 
 a long time these two stood with dropped heads, and 
 then John, lifting shame-stricken eyes to the scared, 
 incredulous face of his friend, burst out with reckless 
 defiance — 
 
 " I love her ! God, honour, friends — I care 
 not — I love her! / love her!'' and then, with a 
 sudden, overwhelming recoil, and a short, stifled 
 gasp, he fell forward in a dead swoon. 
 
 Those who had an ordinary acquaintance with Max 
 Ringley would have been surprised to see him at this 
 moment, but his was one of those natures which, 
 ruffled easily on the surface, have large reserves of calm 
 strength which astonishes onlookers in times of great 
 and sudden pressure ; and so, with the coolness of a 
 doctor, he laid his friend on the sofa, took off with 
 rapid deftness the clerical collar, and opened his 
 shirt at the neck; and then, springing downstairs, he 
 suddenly assumed his old easy manner, and in the 
 smoothest possible voice, asked the landlady if she 
 had a little brandy in the house. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, I'm not going to break the 
 pledge, Mrs. Pride," he laughed, and then, with the 
 little bottle in his hand, he actually stopped to admire 
 the good woman's canary, and inquire about its 
 breed. 
 
 The spirit was soon administered, John's clammy 
 hands vigorously rubbed, his face fanned, and in a
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 279 
 
 few moments he was opening his eyes and looking 
 into the pitifully anxious face bending over him. 
 His were vacant enough at first, and then compre- 
 hension came back into them. He shrank like a 
 shamed child from his friend's eyes, and turned his 
 head away with a low moan. Max watched him 
 with strangest thoughts. As his passion for Mary 
 Wheeler was his very latest affection of the kind, he 
 regarded it as his greatest, and, in fact, his only 
 genuine one. But the fact that his inseparable 
 friend was now his rival, disconcerting though it 
 was, was not the trouble that most filled his mind at 
 this moment. Max, governed more by his intuitions 
 than by anything else, had been strongly drawn 
 to his constitutional opposite, as he found it in the 
 quiet John Ledger, almost as soon as they became 
 acquainted. John was his ideal man — quiet, sensi- 
 tive, high-souled, and almost painfully conscientious, 
 and had become his second and higher conscience, 
 and acquired a powerful influence in his character 
 of father confessor, not only to him, but to others 
 of the students. He knew John's high-minded, 
 almost overstrained scrupulosity in all matters 
 affecting the relationship with the opposite sex, 
 and the remorseless logic with which he applied 
 the law of duty. And here was this immaculate, 
 this almost revered friend of his involved in com- 
 plications of the most humiliating kind. He knew 
 but too well that John would exact the utmost 
 penalty of the law from himself, and yet the wild, 
 reckless, almost blasphemous language he had used 
 revealed but too clearly the intense reality of the 
 fatal passion that possessed him. Max was sore 
 amazed : he stood gazing down on the passive, 
 almost green-grey face, and pity, sympathy, and 
 strong manly love clamoured within him to help. 
 Just then the idea that John was his rival did not seem
 
 28o THE MINDER 
 
 to appeal to him ; he was his dear friend, in deadly 
 spiritual peril, and must be helped at all costs. 
 
 But how ? He pictured to himself with what 
 scorn John would reject such suggestions of escape 
 as ordinary worldly prudence would dictate ; he knew 
 that he would reject all help as further compro- 
 mising him, and insist on fighting his battle himself; 
 but as his warm heart longed to do something, he 
 flung himself into the low American chair, and began 
 to cudgel his brains for some scheme whereby he 
 might help his friend without consulting him. But 
 though, with elbow on knee and chin in hand, he 
 stared at the flickering coals on the fire until his 
 eyes felt like starting out of his head, no light came ; 
 the darkness grew denser and more hideous about 
 him, and he was in despair. 
 
 "Max!" 
 
 The poor, abstracted fellow started as though a 
 bolt had struck him, and then, turning hastily, he 
 beheld the woe-worn eyes of his friend fixed hungrily 
 upon him. 
 
 " Max ! " and John turned away his head shyly, 
 and appealingly put out a shaking hand. 
 
 With a sudden gush of affection, Max sprang at 
 the pathetic palm, and gripped it with the grip of 
 a vice. For the space of a minute, a minute full 
 of emotion too deep for utterance, they remained 
 thus ; and then John lifted a pleading, humbled 
 look to his friend's face, and still holding his hand, 
 stammered — 
 
 " Always, Max ? " 
 
 And Max, with face awork and choking voice, 
 cried, " Always, dear boy ; always ! " 
 
 " Whatever comes ? " 
 
 " Whatever comes ! " and then breaking utterly 
 down, the agitated fellow dropped upon his knees, 
 and burying his face on his friend's breast, he cried.
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 281 
 
 through set teeth, " John ! God do so to me, and 
 more also, if aught but death part thee and me." 
 
 " Amen ! Amen ! " sobbed John in reply, and there 
 they remained, whilst the pretty carriage clock on 
 the mantelpiece, Max's gift to his friend, ticked 
 eloquent endorsement of the bond just renewed. 
 
 " Sit down, old fellow, and let us think," said John 
 at length, and the other, with red, flushed face, 
 turned and asked solemnly — 
 
 " Hadn't we better pray ? " 
 
 John blushed again with fresh shame, and then, 
 after reflecting a moment, he pointed silently across 
 the room towards the open door of his bedroom, and 
 Max, with a bowed head, got up, and went and shut 
 himself in. 
 
 An hour passed away, and 'Cilia came in to set 
 the table for dinner. The rattle of pots brought 
 Max from his retirement, but he shyly avoided his 
 friend's eye, and moved nervously about from window 
 to picture, and from picture to window again, until 
 the meal was ready. Very little was eaten, and that 
 reluctantly and in silence, but just as they were 
 turning away from the table, John, who was now 
 quite calm, raised his head and said — 
 
 " You'll help me. Max ? " 
 
 " Anything on earth, dear boy. Do give me the 
 chance ! " 
 
 "Anything, Max? Think what it means." 
 
 " Anything ! Anything ! " 
 
 " Then if you want to help and save me, you must 
 go and propose to Mary Wheeler to-day." 
 
 With amazement and almost resentment, Max 
 began to protest. John waited until he had done, and 
 then said — 
 
 *' It must be done to-day, if — ^if you really love 
 her." 
 
 John knew well enough how violent, and yet how
 
 282 THE MINDER 
 
 transitory his friend's fits of love had been hitherto ; 
 but it seemed to him to be the most natural of all 
 things that this should be a serious case, considering 
 the woman involved, and he so treated it. 
 
 Max refused, and stormed and argued; and when 
 abuse seemed unavailing, he insisted that at least 
 John should tell him more of his mind before he 
 did anything. 
 
 But John was quietly obdurate, and he had so 
 much more confidence in his quieter friend's judg- 
 ment than his own, that Max presently subsided, 
 and began to think with rueful face of the task 
 assigned him. 
 
 It was not the first time he had proposed, and 
 every day of the last week he had painted to himself 
 the scene which he had begun to feel could not 
 long be deferred ; but things seemed all so different 
 now, and he had an uneasy sense that he was 
 about to do something the end of which he could 
 not quite see. 
 
 And then John began to talk. Quietly and gently 
 he extolled the fair woman now so much to them 
 both. Then he remarked, with a sad cadence, on the 
 equality of the match from the worldly standpoint, 
 Max's father being a comparatively wealthy Midland 
 squire. From that he passed on to the mutual 
 suitability of their temperaments — Mary's queenly 
 self-possession being the natural foil to Max's impetu- 
 osity ; and he finished all by paying a glowing tribute 
 to the character of the Wheeler family. 
 
 Several times Max interrupted with questions as to 
 what John was going to do ; but these were all quietly 
 ignored, and at last, as his friend expected, Max's 
 imagination caught fire, and he finally, after many 
 protestations and frequent suspicious glances at John, 
 consented to obey his behest, but contended for a 
 short postponement of the actual attempt. John,
 
 A STAGGERING COMPLICATION 283 
 
 however, was inexorable, and he was at last com- 
 pelled to yield that point also. It took a considerable 
 time to get him ready. Nearly every clean collar 
 John had was tried and rejected ; a quarter of an 
 hour was spent in discussing whether he ought not 
 to pay a visit to a barber before embarking on so 
 important an errand. His soiled cuffs had to be 
 judiciously turned, for John's were of altogether too 
 shy a character to suit his taste ; and when every- 
 thing else seemed in order, he suddenly remembered 
 that he had come in worsted gloves, and as his friend's 
 were too small, he had, cold though the weather was, 
 to fall back on an old trick, and carry John's best 
 kids in his hand. He started at last, however, and 
 John was just breathing a relieved sigh, when he 
 came bounding back, plumped himself doggedly down 
 on a chair, and utterly refused to go a step until John 
 had explained himself. And so the whole weary 
 argument had to be gone over again, and it was 
 perilously late in the afternoon when he got once 
 more started. He was back again almost instantly. 
 
 " Would it not be better, under all the circum- 
 stances, to write to her ? " 
 
 John got over this by appealing to his pride. 
 Surely such a girl deserved something more honour- 
 able than a mere note. 
 
 Away he went once more with a sudden rush, and 
 this time he did not return. 
 
 Left to himself. Ledger began to pace about the 
 room in uneasy thought. Slowly and with frequent 
 baitings at first, then rapidly, until, all unconsciously, 
 he was tramping about the floor in a way that 
 greatly exercised the nerves of the landlady down- 
 stairs. Readers of this story will think that he was 
 well accustomed to acute mental conflict, but John 
 felt that he had never been in real trouble before. 
 Hitherto his difficulties had been of a religious
 
 284 THE MINDER 
 
 nature mostly, but now the deep elemental passions 
 of the natural man were awakened, and he" fought 
 with beasts at Ephesus." Max ? They had an hour 
 or so ago pledged themselves to eternal amity, but 
 just now there raged within him all the fires of 
 unregenerate jealousy, as he realised that at that 
 moment he was perhaps in the company of the girl 
 he now so madly loved. Mary Wheeler ? She was 
 not something to secretly and hopelessty love ; she 
 was something to steal, to ravish away, to fight for 
 the possession of against all comers and at all costs. 
 Sallie ? Right? duty? conscience ? These were but 
 dry autumn leaves swept helplessly along in the 
 mighty rush of unreasoning passion. Think ? He 
 could not think ; he would not ! He would have ! 
 Mad ? Let him be mad ; he liked it, he revelled in it ! 
 Madness and Mary were heaven. Have ? Yes, he 
 would have, if the universe came clashing about his 
 ears as he plucked the fatal fruit. 
 
 He did not conquer this mood ; he did not even 
 resist it ; but it passed away of itself, and he was 
 just beginning to shudder with horror at the awful 
 thoughts that had passed through his mind, when 
 there was a bang downstairs, a clatter on the staircase, 
 and Max, with a battered hat and a bruised forehead, 
 came staggering into the room. 
 
 " Come, John, come ! " cried the mad fellow. 
 " There's a mob outside Wheeler's house, and they 
 are threatening to break the windows ! "
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 It was not easy for John to come out of his painful 
 abstraction all at once, and the stunning nature of 
 the intelligence Max brought did not assist him. 
 But Ringley was impatient and imperious. 
 
 "Look alive, man! On with those togs! It's 
 something about a bank. 'Cilia, bring Mr. Ledger's 
 boots. Seems to have smashed or something. 
 Wheeler's a director — chairman in fact. Blow the 
 bruise ! Come on ! Poor girls ! " and dragging his 
 companion after him down the stairs, he hurried out 
 into the damp streets, talking excitedly as he went. 
 
 What they were going to do neither of them 
 thought, but they were eagerly agreed that now was 
 the time to stand by their friends. 
 
 *' Some booby called Wheeler a swindler, and I 
 went for him, and an old party interfered with an 
 umbrella, and gave me this," explained Max care- 
 lessly, pointing to the mark on his brow. "Come 
 on ; don't you hear them shouting ? " 
 
 Just as they turned into Nickey Lane, to avoid 
 Broad Street, and thus get a clearer way to Shuttle 
 Hill, John heard himself called, and pulhng up, he 
 beheld the super, making his way towards him with 
 solemn face. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you ? Didn't I tell you ? " he gasped 
 as he came up. "Isn't it a mercy we got him out ? " 
 
 And to the small-minded minister's astonishment,
 
 286 THE MINDER 
 
 the quiet, restrained John sprang at him like an 
 enraged terrier. 
 
 " No, sir ! No ! It is not a mercy ; it's a dis- 
 honour ! — a dastardly shame ! Don't you know he 
 saved your daughter's Hfe ? " — and before the cleric 
 could recover his amazement, Max was shaking his 
 fist in his face. 
 
 "There's more grace in Wheeler's whiskers than 
 there is in all the little souls in your measly, one-horse 
 circuit ! " 
 
 But just then a crashing sound was heard, and a 
 falling of glass, and with fierce cries the two young 
 men broke off, and dashed away in the direction of 
 number seven. They took another bye-street, and 
 running the length of it, turned once more, and came 
 suddenly out opposite the house; and, as they did so, 
 each uttered a cry, for there before them was a large 
 upstairs window of plate glass all splintered, as by 
 some heavy missile, and behind the window, white- 
 faced, but calm and resolute, stood Mary Wheeler. 
 As they rushed up, she came nearer, until her face 
 was framed in the broken glass, and seemed to wish 
 to speak to the crowd; but Max, dashing headlong 
 through the throng, sprang at the gilded railings, and 
 shouted hoarsely — 
 
 "Go back!" 
 
 Mary caught sight of them, and a soft blush 
 mantled her cheek, but John, with a quicker 
 intuition than his friend, had guessed what she 
 wished to do ; and springing at the railings, he had 
 climbed lightly up the gate post before the police- 
 men at the entrance could stop him. A moment 
 later he was standing upright on the crown of the 
 post, and was waving his hands and calling for 
 silence. The crowd did not, all at once, realise the 
 situation ; but when it did, there was an outbreak of 
 jeers and curses.
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 287 
 
 "That's him 'at's courting t' dowter," shouted 
 some one. 
 
 " He'll give her t' sack naa (now), "jeered another. 
 
 " He'll ha' to stick his legs under somebody else's 
 mahogany naa," cried a third, and John, heedless of 
 everything, and only anxious for the safety of those 
 inside the house, still waved his hands and called for 
 attention. 
 
 Just at this moment Max uttered a sharp cry, and 
 sprang at a man who was moving back to get 
 swinging room for his arm, and who held half a 
 brick in his hand. Two policemen coming up at the 
 moment, rushed forward to stop the struggle, whilst 
 the inspector plucked at John's coat-tail to induce 
 him to come down. 
 
 " I'm going to speak to them and try to get them 
 to go home." 
 
 " Then for God's sake go on, or there will be a riot." 
 
 " Friends ! friends ! " shouted John, as Max came 
 back panting to the railings, and the policemen 
 dragged the stone-thrower away to the lock-up. 
 
 "Louder! louder!" shouted the inspector in a 
 hoarse whisper, and then, turning to the excited 
 crowd, he cried — 
 
 " Order ! Hear him ! Order ! " 
 
 Just at this moment a stone whizzed past John's 
 head, and crashed into the end of the Wheeler's 
 conservatory. 
 
 " Shame! " shouted one or two, and the policemen, 
 glad of any help, chimed in — 
 
 " Shame ! " 
 
 Comparative silence fell at last on the gathering, 
 but dark, threatening faces were everywhere turned 
 on to John on the gate post. 
 
 " Friends ! " he resumed, " I don't know much 
 about " 
 
 ** We want our brass," broke in two or three.
 
 288 THE MINDER 
 
 John drew himself up, fixed one or two of the more 
 attentive with his eye, and recommenced — 
 
 " How long have you known James Wheeler ? " 
 
 " What by that ? " cried some one. 
 
 " A sight too long," bawled a grocer on the 
 
 edge of the crowd. 
 
 " He was born in Partidge, and you have known 
 him all your lives, haven't you ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " He's lived and worked amongst you for fifty odd 
 years, hasn't he ? " 
 
 The silence was now complete. 
 
 " Did any of you ever know him do a dirty trick ? " 
 
 Faces were clearing here and there. 
 
 " Has he ever robbed any of you of a penny ? " 
 
 There were half-reluctant nods, and somebody 
 turned round and threatened the still muttering 
 grocer. 
 
 " Has he done anything to shake your confidence 
 in him ? " 
 
 " Wheer is he now, then ? " shouted a woman in 
 dingy widow's weeds. 
 
 " Where is he ! Looking after your interests." 
 
 John knew nothing, but his confidence in his friend 
 was complete, and he made this statement in the 
 plenitude of a strong faith ; and as he saw doubt 
 and fear struggling with new hope in the counten- 
 ances of those before him, and realised how much 
 this must mean to some of them, he cried, with 
 sudden emotion — 
 
 " Oh, friends ! I'm sorry for you to-day, with all 
 my heart." 
 
 " God bless thee ! " shouted an old man who was 
 standing next to Max. 
 
 " But, friends," John went on, " there's one thing 
 I'm prepared to stake my life on, and that is that 
 James Wheeler will part with every stick he has in
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 289 
 
 the world before any of you shall be injured through 
 him — he will ! " 
 
 " Yes, that he will, young man," cried a strange 
 voice, and, with a sudden cry, the crowd turned round 
 and beheld James Wheeler himself standing on the 
 edge of the throng. He had evidently got out of a 
 cab which had a moment before pulled up in the bye- 
 street down which John and Max had rushed upon 
 the scene. With easy self-possession he walked 
 down the gap made for him by the suddenly abashed 
 crowd, and nodding to Max, he put one foot upon 
 the coping, and gripping the railings, raised himself 
 above the rest and looked steadily into the faces 
 turned up to him. 
 
 " The bank will open to-morrow morning at the 
 usual time, and you will all receive your own," he 
 said ; and then as though the occasion was one of no 
 particular interest, he turned, straddled over the 
 railings, put out his hand to John, and helped him 
 down from his elevated position, murmuring as he 
 did so a word in John's ear that brought the tingling 
 blood into his pallid face. 
 
 The crowd wavered, men and women cast dazed, 
 questioning looks at each other, and then the police 
 becoming suddenly exceedingly valiant and energetic, 
 they began to disperse. 
 
 Max, with shining eyes, came swarming over the 
 railings and across the flower beds, and seizing Mr. 
 Wheeler by the hand, began to assure him that he was 
 a trump ! a giant ! a hero ! and finished by declaring — 
 
 " My old dad will give you a lift at this, sir ! He'll 
 be proud to know such a man." 
 
 Mr. Wheeler, with a shy smile, took John by the 
 arm, and began to move towards the house. As he 
 opened the front door he stepped back and pushed 
 his young friend before him, and before John could 
 realise what "was happening, he was being squeezed 
 
 M. u
 
 290 THE MINDER 
 
 almost to choking, by a pair of long white arms ; a 
 hot, wet cheek, and a bewildering cloud of fluffy 
 hair were being pressed against his cheek, and a 
 shower of kisses rained upon him. Then there was 
 a sharp cry, and John, suddenly released, beheld Mr. 
 Wheeler enduring the same delightful sort of assault, 
 until at length the impetuous Betty, crying and 
 laughing together, let her father go, turned and 
 looked at the embarrassed and evidently envious 
 Max, and then dashed off into the house with sudden 
 shame. 
 
 There were voices in the hall just then, and the 
 " kids," indignant and threatening, came in to hear 
 the details ; for the mill was nearly two miles out of 
 the town, and they had only heard the terrible news 
 a few minutes before " stopping time." 
 
 The conversation was rapid and noisy, and of a 
 bewildering cross-fire nature: so many things having 
 to be told and commented upon that John was 
 relieved when, just as Betty was opening a highly 
 coloured description of his doings, Mary came into 
 the room and at once attracted attention by her 
 looks. She had been "a little frightened," she 
 admitted, laughingly, and nobody knew then that 
 for nearly half-an-hour she had been lying on her 
 own bed in a dead faint. Tea was brought in 
 presently, but nobody wanted any, and the excited 
 young folk only drew up to the table to gratify the 
 cherry-cheeked " grandmother." 
 
 John and Max tried to excuse themselves and get 
 away, but nobody would hear of it. 
 
 " Friends like these must be stuck to, eh, boys ? " 
 said Mr. Wheeler, and so they were constrained to 
 remain for a time, but later on, with many assurances 
 of gratitude, they took their leave. 
 
 Late that same night the three young Wheelers 
 sat pulling moodily at expired cigarettes in the smoke
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 291 
 
 room, and talking in low fitful tones. Presently the 
 little office door that opened into the smoke room 
 creaked on its hinges, and the elder Wheeler, without, 
 for once, his cigar, came into the room and sat down. 
 Complete silence ensued, but presently he turned his 
 head and looked round as if in search of some one. 
 Mark got up and went out, returning almost imme- 
 diately with Mary, who now wore a long dressing- 
 gown, and her wonderful hair fell in thick heavy 
 folds down her back. As she took her seat near her 
 father he looked round nervously at her, and then 
 turned his head away and began to blink his eyes 
 rapidly. Mary glanced at him, and then rising, 
 stepped into the little office and returned with a 
 cigar box which she held out to him. He shook his 
 head decidedl}^ but without daring to look at her, 
 and so she picked two cigars from the box, laid them 
 on his knee, and then, taking a taper, she lighted 
 it, and still waited in silence. With more rapid 
 blinkings of the eyes, and a treacherous twitching 
 about the mouth, he took the weed and taper and 
 was soon pouring out volumes of smoke ; at the same 
 time he put out his hand and touched hers timidly, 
 as it lay on the arm of his chair, with a touch that 
 meant more to these deep-hearted, reticent people 
 than a passion of emotion would have done to 
 others. 
 
 Mr. Wheeler was clearly struggling with some well- 
 nigh uncontrollable feeling, and the " kids " in similar 
 plight singed their moustaches and burnt their noses' 
 ends in vain attempts to cover their emotions behind 
 very demonstrative lightings of cigarettes. Silence, 
 more painful than ever, fell on them, and then in 
 hollow, broken tones, Mr. Wheeler faltered out — 
 
 " It's my own fault." 
 
 " Father ! " 
 
 Four suddenly stern voices rapped out this reproof, 
 
 u 2
 
 292 THE MINDER 
 
 and the father, who seemed to be sinking deeper 
 into the chair, and looking smaller and smaller every 
 moment, continued brokenly — 
 
 " You don't know how bad it is, children." 
 
 " No, and we don't care." 
 
 The younger men were all like their father, slow 
 of speech, but three pairs of moist, glistening eyes 
 were turned admiringly upon Mary, who, as usual, 
 had found the very words they wanted. 
 
 ** You lads will have to strike out for yourselves 
 now," went on the elder man. 
 
 " We sha'n't," answered all three at once. 
 
 " But, my bairns, it's gone, it's all gone. We 
 hav'n't anything left at all." 
 
 And as the big fellows looked helplessly at each 
 other and their sister in search of a sufficient thing 
 to say, Mary brought sudden tears into their eyes by 
 saying, very quietly — 
 
 " Yes, we have ! we've you.'' 
 
 Wheeler could not speak for several moments, and 
 his eldest son watching him furtively, saw him driving 
 his teeth into his cigar as though in maddening pain. 
 
 "The mill will have to go; is practically gone 
 now," he said at last. 
 
 Shadows came upon those young faces for a moment, 
 for that was worse than they had expected, but as 
 they glanced suspiciously at each other, shame smote 
 them, they called up airs of stolid indifference and 
 almost contempt, but finally burst into nervous little 
 laughs as their sister came once more to their rescue 
 by answering — 
 
 "Then we'll all work together and build one 
 twice as big." 
 
 Wheeler sprang to his feet as though he had been 
 stung. 
 
 " We will ! forgive me, children. I was a coward 
 after all. We will ! God helping us, we will ! " 
 
 I
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 293 
 
 " Dad ! " shouted Mark, as excited now as his 
 father, " there's many a man in Partidge has begun 
 at the bottom and won his way up once, but I know 
 a jolly old fellow who is going to show 'em how to 
 do it twice. We're on for it, daddy lad, we're 
 all on ! " 
 
 A silence fell on them for a while. Wheeler sank 
 back into his chair and sucked eagerly at his now 
 unlighted cigar. 
 
 " I don't quite see what we shall do — yet," he 
 said, in slow musing tones, " but God " 
 
 And before he could get the dilatory words out, 
 Mary said, shyly — 
 
 " There's my Httle patent." 
 
 " M-a-r-y ! " and Wheeler's suddenly excited shout 
 seemed to ring through the quiet house as he leaped 
 to his feet and stood gazing at her. Then he turned 
 away, and looking with wet-eyed appeal from one of 
 his stalwart sons to the other, he said : " Didn't I 
 say she was God's angel in the house, and the best 
 member of the firm to boot ! " and then, before she 
 could prevent him, he had picked her up in bis long 
 arms and was hugging her to his heart and showering 
 hot joyful kisses on her face. When he at length 
 released her, as her brothers all looked very like 
 making similar attacks, she retreated towards the 
 door. 
 
 " An unprotected female must protect herself," 
 she said, with something of Betty in her momentary 
 manner, and with a long sweeping curtsey she 
 vanished. 
 
 Something very like cheerfulness seemed to have 
 entered the hearts of those she left behind her, and very 
 soon they were deep in conversation on the details of 
 the bank crisis and the arrangements and sacrifices 
 necessary to clear the good name of Wheeler. 
 
 "We shall do it, lads," cried the older man, as
 
 294 THE MINDER 
 
 they rose to separate ; " they can rob us and im- 
 poverish us, but they never shall disgrace us." And 
 as the sons uttered each a fervent " Never," he led 
 the way upstairs, crying heartily : " And now for 
 Mary's patent. Bless her ! " 
 
 Next morning, Mr. Wheeler was early at the bank. 
 It was an old black and white structure which had 
 originally been in the centre of the town, but which 
 with the growth of the neighbourhood had been left 
 very much to itself, and now stood back behind high 
 railings in the narrow old Market Street. The insti- 
 tution itself was a very old-fashioned one, doing a 
 slow, safe business amongst the aborigines of the 
 district. It had been held in the greatest regard, 
 and was always considered particularly safe. A new 
 manager, however, who had been appointed some 
 three years before the crisis, early announced his 
 intention of clearing out the cobwebs and rousing 
 the concern out of its musty ways, and he had 
 carried out his threat only too well, and the 
 unexpected collapse of a firm very deep in its 
 books had brought about the immediate difficulty. 
 Mr. "Wheeler, as an old townsman, had always had 
 a quiet ambition to hold shares in the bank, and 
 having unexpectedly come into possession of a 
 parcel of scrip some months before the new man- 
 agement took hold, he was soon put upon the 
 directorate, because of his position and influence 
 more than for the value of his holding. He had, 
 however, caused a flutter in the dovecote by tartly 
 critising the " new ways." And suddenly the crash 
 came, and he discovered that his fellow-directors 
 were either men of straw, or had ingeniously covered 
 themselves by overdrafts, and he had, perhaps, 
 unwisely expressed himself about the matter at the 
 iirst sign of danger ; thus producing uneasiness and 
 a nasty " run," with such consequences as we have
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 295 
 
 already seen. Practically he was left either to shuffle 
 and edge as he might have done and thus save his 
 possessions, or face the matter out, which, as he well 
 knew, meant the loss of all he had. 
 
 He was greeted with mingled groans and cheers as 
 he approached the excited crowd of depositors, but 
 he only winced when somebody flung the word 
 " Methody " at him. Punctually at ten o'clock the 
 doors were opened, and payments made. At first 
 there was a violent scramble and much cursing, but 
 as depositor after depositor came away satisfied, the 
 stream slackened, and in a hour had become quite 
 manageable ; and by the time the dinner-hour was 
 reached the demand had almost ceased, and a few 
 customers had even brought their money back. 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Wheeler was busy enough in the 
 back office receiving visits from friends, and reports 
 from the chief constable about the search for the 
 manager, who had disappeared the day before. 
 Fellow-shareholders also visited him and abused 
 him for having brought the thing upon himself and 
 them, and for his quixotic conduct now that the worst 
 had come. Old friends, business men from other 
 towns, wired offering assistance, or called upon him 
 and suggested '* perfectly safe " and " honourable 
 methods " whereby he might save himself and evade, 
 or at least postpone, his liability. Having failed in 
 this argument, some of them began to abuse him as 
 the enemy of his family, the robber of his children, 
 and the spoiler of his sons' prospects. To each and 
 all he replied with the same smiling firmness, and 
 went on paying out through the clerks the demands 
 made. Then it was reported to him that the run 
 had stopped, and going into the counting-house to 
 peep at the crowd still standing about, he was 
 accosted by a rough-looking old fellow, in shabby 
 fustian and a greasy silk hat of antique fashion.
 
 ^96 THE MINDER 
 
 " I've towd thee monny a time as thou were a 
 foo'," he cried, glaring savagely at the temporary 
 banker, " but now thou knows it, I reacon," and 
 then with a curious spasmodic movement on his 
 face, he drew out a parcel of notes amounting to 
 about £40, and pitching them on the high counter, 
 said, snappishly, " Here, tak' care o' them." 
 
 It was old Crake the leader, and Mr. Wheeler's 
 eyes glistened as he handed back the money, and 
 begged the old man to go home. 
 
 " Oh ! it's sperritual pride now, is it ! The lunger I 
 live the more I sees that needle's eye as t' Master talks 
 about. Here, lad ! thee tak' it," and with a sternly 
 indignant glance at Wheeler, he stepped up to a 
 grinning clerk and handed him the notes. The only 
 responsible director then shrugged his shoulders and 
 retreated into the inner office, and the old fellow 
 flung after him the most applicable Scripture text he 
 could think of — " Pride goeth before a fall, and a 
 haughty spirit before destruction." 
 
 Wherever James Wheeler appeared during the 
 next few days he was greeted with something like 
 an ovation, and even on the busy Manchester Exchange 
 men stood by as he passed, took off their hats, and 
 made attempts at cheering. Many condemned the 
 action as unjust to himself and his family, for his 
 responsibility was after all a joint one. More than 
 one little committee was formed to try to compel 
 him to stay his hand, but they produced no effect. 
 The mill, a fine modern concern, the env}^ of many, 
 was held over for a little time, to see if anything 
 could be done to save it to the family, but Wheeler 
 proved so fastidiously scrupulous, and his sons so 
 stubbornly infatuated about their father, that nothing 
 was accomplished, and when in growing admiration 
 his fellow shareholders in the bank insisted upon 
 purchasing and presenting him with the house in
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 297 
 
 which he lived, he peremptorily stopped the move- 
 ment, and insisted that it would require all they 
 could find in the way of cash to help the bank upon 
 its feet again. 
 
 The super., as the result of John's hasty words, 
 had an affecting interview with his ex-steward, the 
 details of which have never leaked out, but from that 
 day the minister went about declaring that " he was 
 not fit to black Mr. Wheeler's boots." 
 
 When the Quarterly meeting came, there was a 
 special vote of congratulation sent to the ex-steward, 
 and an invitation to the now all-popular second 
 minister to remain in the circuit. The stewards, 
 the authors of that stinging letter to John, were 
 most fulsome, and when John quietly but firmly 
 declined, a large party headed by old Crake 
 absolutely refused to accept the refusal, and insisted 
 that he must be made to stop, even if Conference 
 had to be invoked. During these exciting times, and 
 in spite of imminent examinations. Max came to 
 Partidge every third or fourth day, though his own 
 circuit was forty miles away. But though John and 
 he talked much and often about the Wheelers, each 
 noted it as an odd thing that the other never alluded 
 to the dread subject that was so constantly in their 
 thoughts. Max, glowing with intense admiration of 
 the conduct of his friends, was now absolutely certain 
 there was only one woman in the world for him, and 
 he revelled in the delicious thought that in their 
 misfortune his projected proposal would be a delicate 
 compliment, and show the family that he had a soul 
 above mere worldly considerations. 
 
 Every time he came to Partidge he had within 
 him the fixed purpose of proposing to Mary before 
 he returned, but on each occasion John's strange and 
 significant silence, and the increasing pallor and 
 pensiveness of his face, touched the impressionable
 
 298 THE MINDER 
 
 fellow's heart, and he decided to wait until his 
 friend should speak. Then came the examinations ; 
 times of torturing humiliation to Max, but when 
 they were over, and he had thrown the last erratic 
 sheet of Hebrew aside, he startled John and the 
 examining minister, by shouting — 
 
 " And now for Rose Cottage and Paradise ! — 
 Paradise lost to Paradise regained." 
 
 It was known to both of them that the Wheelers 
 were removing to their new home that very week, 
 and Max waited impatiently until the more pains- 
 taking John had finished in order that he might, as 
 he expected, be asked to call at Partidge en route, 
 spend the night, and, of course, see the Wheelers. 
 
 Rose Cottage was a little old-fashioned house on 
 the other side of the railway, and was the place to 
 which James Wheeler had taken his bride when 
 he was only a cashier. They found their arrival 
 anticipated, and Betty met them with a long bamboo 
 curtain rod as a sort of wand of office and showed 
 them over the new residence. Everything looked 
 very cramped and small after the beautiful home 
 they had so often visited, and there was a smell 
 of paint and whitewash, but Betty was in high 
 spirits, and did the honours with lavish descriptive 
 embellishments and serio-comic gravity. 
 
 " Step forward, gentlemen, mind that two-and- 
 eleven-penny umbrella stand ! Walk this way — the 
 reception room ; don't knock the gaseliers with your 
 head, Mr. Ringley ! " — and she showed them a small 
 front room which was to be used for state occasions, 
 and thus went from room to room. " This, dearly 
 beloved brethering," she cried, standing before a 
 closed door, " is the refectory, or, as the Revised 
 Version has it — the kitchen ! Our chef is at this 
 moment preparing dyspeptic instruments of torture, 
 and is not on view, so we will ascend." On the
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 299 
 
 second storey she vaguely indicated with a majestic 
 sweep of the hand the various rooms, and uttered 
 the single word "dormitories," and then pointed 
 to the door of a room over the drawing-room on 
 which was a sheet of paper covered with letters in 
 different stages of intoxication, and which made up 
 the significant announcement: "The Prophet's 
 Chamber ! " 
 
 Thus introduced, they spent a delightful evening, 
 and Max kept the thoroughly weary and pensive 
 John up into the small hours as he enlarged on 
 the "splendid humility" of the Wheelers and the 
 incomparable charms of Mary. 
 
 Next morning, he was strangely restless and absent- 
 minded. Several times John caught him studying 
 him with scowling brow, as if he longed to introduce 
 the fateful topic, but was uncertain as to its reception. 
 They both knew that he ought to be back in his 
 circuit, for to-morrow was Sunday ; but he fidgeted 
 about, looked up the time-table, started several 
 conversations which he somehow could not maintain, 
 and at last turning shyly to his companion, he asked, 
 bluntly — 
 
 " What about this girl ? " 
 
 John paled a little, drew himself together, went 
 over and dropped some old post-cards and used 
 envelopes into the fire, and then said — 
 
 " Go and ask her to-day." 
 
 Max started, and looked a little taken aback, John 
 was always so downright and blunt ; then a smile 
 came into the corners of his mouth, and it was clear 
 that the suggestion was very much to his mind. 
 But his face shadowed suddenly, he looked hard out 
 of the window a little while, and then stepped up to 
 John, and taking him by the shoulder and looking 
 with earnest, scrutinising gaze into his eyes, he asked, 
 softly —
 
 300 THE MINDER 
 
 " And what about you, old man ? " 
 
 There was a pause, he could feel John's frame 
 shaking under his hands, and at last the answer 
 came — 
 
 " Max, dear old fellow, it's of God's mercy that 
 you are the man. My guilty love is so strong that 
 my religion even is too weak for it sometimes, but I 
 am helped and hope to be saved by — by — b — y — by 
 my love to thee. Go, ask her, and the Lord help 
 and prosper thee ! " 
 
 Max's head had dropped upon his breast, his face 
 went pale and red and pale and red again, his eyes 
 were shining with a strange, struggling light, and at 
 last he set his teeth together, clenched his fist, and 
 shouted, with drawn, agonised face — 
 
 " I will never see her again ! " 
 
 But John knew him better than he knew himself, 
 and so, after waiting for the height of his passion to 
 subside, he began to talk as of old. Max held out 
 most obstinately, and repeated his last declaration 
 half-a-dozen times, but at length, and as usual, he 
 5nelded to his friend's greater firmness, and about 
 eleven o'clock, morning though it was, he sallied 
 forth on his mission. 
 
 Two hours passed ; long, terrible hours for John 
 Ledger, and at last, on the stroke of one, he heard 
 the steps of his chum on the stairs and began to 
 shake like a leaf. 
 
 " Well ? " he cried with painful eagerness, almost 
 before Max had got into the room. But the Romeo, 
 with sphinx-like face, began to put away his hat and 
 overcoat with most painful deliberateness. 
 
 "Well?" cried John again, with emotion that 
 made his voice shake. But Max walked coolly to 
 the window, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, 
 and stood gazing moodily out of the window, and 
 actually humming a medley of fag-ends of tunes. 
 
 I
 
 A BANK SMASH AND A PROPOSAL 301 
 
 " Speak ! Speak, man ! You are killing me ! " 
 
 And then Max turned round, surveyed John criti- 
 cally from head to foot, and then going close up to 
 him and seizing him by the button of his coat, he 
 said, in tones of unalterable conviction — 
 
 " Ledger ! the woman that will ever get a proposal 
 from me again isn't made." 
 
 " She refused you ? " cried John, with a sudden 
 swelling of the heart that frightened him. 
 
 ** Refused me ! Why, man, she laughed at me ! " 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " She laughed at me, and looked like a seraph all 
 the time. She licked me all over with sweet words 
 like a mother tabby with an obstreperous kitten. 
 Sweet! she was sugar itself; she was butter and 
 honey ! Why, man alive, I thought once she was 
 going to kiss me ! " 
 
 " But she didn't refuse " 
 
 " Didn't she ? Not in so many words, she's too 
 confoundedly clever for that. She didn't even offer 
 to be a sister. She stroked me down and smiled 
 and smothered me in compliments, and smiled and 
 said : ' How kind of me ! ' and smiled ; and then, 
 when I was feeling like a silly fool, if she didn't raise 
 her big eyes and cock her dimpled chin, and ask as 
 demurely as an old maid, if I didn't think there was 
 something the matter with the health of Mr. Ledger. 
 No, no. Mister Ledger, once bitten twice shy ! No 
 more proposing for yours truly."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 
 
 It was clear to John Ledger, when, on Max's 
 departure to a too long neglected work, he had 
 leisure to think, that after all his friend's affections 
 had not been very deeply engaged, and he thought 
 with glowing admiration of the delicate kindness 
 of Mary, who had evidently contrived to satisfy or at 
 least to silence Max without too seriously hurting 
 his self-love. How she had done it was by no means 
 clear from Max's hyperbolical and disjointed descrip- 
 tions, but that it had been done effectually and with 
 the least possible pain was very manifest, John 
 was glad — selfishly, wickedly glad. The few words 
 his friend had slipped out about Mary's concern for 
 him meant nothing, of course, but they seemed 
 unutterably sweet, and he would believe they meant 
 something in spite of reason and right and every- 
 thing else. That his passion was hopeless, and mad 
 and guilty as well, he knew ; but that it was his 
 passion, the one great overmastering passion of his 
 life, he knew also, and did not at that moment wish 
 it otherwise. To love was enough, and every other 
 consideration was relentlessly shut out. And just 
 when the guilty dream, as he regarded it, was most 
 intoxicating it began to slip away. He tried to fix 
 it, strained his soul's eyes after it, clutched at it 
 with mad desperation, but it faded before him like a 
 dissolving view, and he was left alone in the outer
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 303 
 
 darkness. The severe strain of self-repression during 
 the last few weeks had drained his strength, and 
 that, with the exhaustion of his examinations, had 
 reduced his vitality, and he was in that limp 
 physical condition in which all mental ideas, espe- 
 cially those of a pensive nature, become vivid even 
 to exaggeration ; and every feature of the dreadful 
 impasse in which he found himself stood out with 
 startling distinctness. The worst fear of his life was 
 more than realised, and he, the fastidiously conscien- 
 tious, was steeped in basest guilt. He had not even 
 been equal to the demands of elementary morality, 
 and proposed to himself to stand at God's altar and 
 vow to love a woman he knew he never could love ; 
 whilst solemnly pledged and spiritually married to 
 one woman, he had allowed himself to love another. 
 To one of them it was robbery, and to the other, 
 grossest insult. 
 
 The position was bad enough when considered 
 thus, but when he thought of it as it was related 
 to God, and then remembered that he was not a 
 mere man but a teacher of Christian morality, the 
 blackness of darkness came upon him, and he would 
 gladly have died at that moment to escape the 
 torture. But there was no escape ; there was even 
 no relief. He was lying on the little horse-hair sofa, 
 his eyes nipped tightly together in acute anguish. 
 Self-pity came more than once to his aid, but seeing 
 in it only another and a deadlier foe he resisted, and 
 hardened his heart against himself. 
 
 In life's great extremes he had been taught to seek 
 God, but now he felt that as the difficulty was of his 
 own making, it could only be dealt with by himself, 
 and that to ask God to help him out of a trouble 
 from which there was a clear, if almost impossibly 
 hard path of duty, was to further insult an already 
 outraged Deity.
 
 304 THE MINDER 
 
 He rolled about on the couch and groaned ; and 
 then a little patch of grey appeared ; it could scarcely 
 be called light, but it was some little change from 
 the dense darkness that enveloped his soul. He 
 grew quiet, removed his hands from his face, and 
 lay staring at the white ceiling. Then he rose, went 
 to his desk, and took out a bundle of letters and 
 glanced them over. Yes. there was something there ; 
 there was quite sufficient in those letters to at least 
 palliate his offence, for Sallie had written very harshly 
 and recklessly sometimes ; he could give her up 
 definitely and then make some atonement to God 
 and his conscience by resolving he would never 
 marry at all. Then he woke from his reverie with 
 a start, flung the letters from him as though they 
 had bitten his fingers, and stood looking down upon 
 them on the floor as one who watched a hissing, 
 mesmerising snake. There was anger, horror, dis- 
 gust on his face now, and presently with a cry he made 
 a plunge at the letters, and, lest they should tempt 
 him again, gathered them in his hands, threw them 
 with a little gasp into the fire, and stood watching 
 their destruction with painful interest. The little 
 clock struck six, and remembering that to-morrow 
 was Sunday he smiled bitterly, and flung himself 
 once more on his couch. 
 
 " No, there was no way out"; even the desperate 
 course he had pacified his conscience with so long 
 now seemed not only wicked but impossible. There 
 was one thing to do, and one only ; he shrank from 
 it, resisted it, spurned it, but there it was, certain, 
 clear, irresistible : he ought to resign the ministry for 
 which he was no longer fit. 
 
 And then he thought of his mother and Wilky 
 Drax, and all the other kind friends who were so 
 proud of him and interested in his welfare, and as 
 this touched a tender chord his hot eyes grew moist
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 305 
 
 for a moment ; but the thought was soon lost in the 
 reflection that when connexional discipHne had been 
 satisfied, the intrinsic sinfulness of what he had done 
 would still be there, and as his mind reeled under the 
 ever growing burden, he longed in that excruciating 
 moment that he might die. 
 
 There was a local preacher in the pulpit at St. Mary's 
 next morning, for the now popular second minister 
 was reported ill — the examinations, it was said — and 
 Betty Wheeler and her brother Paul were absent 
 from the chapel, presumably looking after the sick 
 man ; and late on Sunday evening a pale, still woman 
 bordering on sixty got off the train at Partidge and 
 was piloted to John's lodgings, whilst a marble-faced 
 girl, with restless manner and wistful eyes, moved 
 absently about at Rose Cottage, guessing, perhaps, 
 some little of the truth, but painfully perplexed all 
 the same. 
 
 Meanwhile Max had reached his own circuit. So 
 absorbed was he in his rejection by Mary that he had 
 allowed himself to be taken past the junction, and 
 had to journey some twelve miles further on, and get 
 round to Longhope as best he could. His lodgings 
 were almost palatial as compared with his friend's, 
 and he looked round with a little sigh of thankfulness 
 upon the orderliness to which his landlady had reduced 
 things during his absence, and he was just ordering 
 his tea when the good woman came in with a message 
 that one of his parishioners was ill, and had sent for 
 him. Conscience-smitten and anxious, the impulsive 
 fellow forgot about his hunger, and a few minutes 
 later his coat tails were seen flying round sundry 
 street corners, and his supporters, glancing after his 
 retreating form, turned to each other to remark upon 
 the wonderful devotion of their young pastor ; for 
 Max, being exceedingly popular as a preacher, could 
 do no wrong, and his many admirers saw devotion 
 M. X
 
 3o6 THE MINDER 
 
 and self-sacrifice where, in an ordinary man, they 
 would have observed nothing but the bare per- 
 formance of duty. 
 
 An hour later he sat at his table absently consum- 
 ing his chop and musing on the many incidents of 
 his recent life. He sighed and wagged his head, and 
 with clenched fists vowed perpetual celibacy as he 
 thought of Mary, but grew still and sad as he reflected 
 on the condition and difficulties of his comrade. The 
 absent-minded emptying of the cold dregs of his 
 teacup into the sugar basin instead of the slop bowl, 
 however, brought him back ; but in a very brief 
 space he was once more asking himself what John 
 ought to do. It was not long, however, before he 
 got a step further, and began to wonder what he 
 could do himself to assist in the disentanglement. 
 A hare-brained idea of suggesting to John that they 
 should both volunteer for work in some remote corner 
 of the mission field, and thus leave all their perplexi- 
 ties behind them, flitted for a moment before his 
 mind, only to be dismissed by the remembrance that 
 John would never be a party to any such scheme. 
 Then the novelty of the situation brought a smile to 
 his lips. Hitherto he had been the one to get into 
 scrapes, and John had had to devise the means of 
 deliverance ; but now the positions were reversed, 
 and the unwontedness of the situation tickled him 
 exceedingly, and he spun a piece of dry toast round 
 on the tip of his finger and chuckled. Then he 
 wondered if there was any discreet, elderly minister 
 to whom he could go for counsel ; but not being able 
 to recall any, his mind flitted to Mary Wheeler. She 
 was so clever, so clear-headed, so high-minded, that 
 he was sure, if she cared, she could suggest a way 
 out ; but remembering all at once that he suspected 
 Mary of secret fondness for John, he saw that she 
 would certainly refuse to have anything to do with
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 307 
 
 the matter. From Mary his mind travelled easily to 
 Sallie Wood. Following, as he generally did, his 
 instinct rather than his reason, he had decided long 
 ago that the union between John and Sallie ought 
 never to be consummated, and he was not quite aware 
 that in his heart of hearts he had designed his friend 
 for his own sister. He had never seen Sallie, but 
 he had an immovable conviction, he knew not why, 
 that she was not good enough for John, and it would 
 be an infinite pity if the poor fellow sacrificed him- 
 self, as he felt certain he would do if left to his own 
 devices. He wondered musingly what sort of a girl 
 Sallie was : whatever her disposition she would be 
 madly in love with John — an}' girl would be. But 
 perhaps she was not; women are a queer quantity — 
 Max was getting the cynicism of experience all at 
 once — perhaps she had never learnt to value him as 
 he and the rest of his college friends, tutors included, 
 had done ; and then a wild, ridiculous, but most 
 alluringly daring idea flashed into his mind, and he 
 threw back his head and grinned as he thought of it. 
 How would it be to go to Sallie unknown to 
 John, and 
 
 "Telegram, sir; boy waitin' for hanswer." 
 
 Max started as he heard the announcement, and 
 then thought, with a queer little pang — 
 
 "What if John has " 
 
 But he tore the salmon-coloured envelope open, 
 and read with puzzled face — 
 
 " Waiting answer to letter. Wire reply. 
 
 " Cloughton, Bramwell." 
 
 With puckered, scowling brow he stared at the 
 telegram, rubbed his left ear violently, and frowned 
 again at the incomprehensible message. Then sud- 
 denly remembering, he plunged at the mantelpiece, 
 and grabbed at a small heap of unopened and hitherto 
 
 X 2
 
 3o8 THE MINDER 
 
 forgotten letters. He ran his eye hastily over the 
 postmarks, picked out a note with the Bramwell 
 stamp on it, tore it open and glanced rapidly over 
 the communication. As he read he raised his brows 
 and cried "Ah ! " now and then in complete surprise; 
 then he knitted his forehead, threw the note down 
 absently on the table, and turned and glared at 
 Mrs. Spudder in intense thought. The landlady 
 understood her man by this time, and stood quite 
 unconcerned, knowing w^ell enough that he did not 
 see her. After thinking thus for a short time Max 
 turned to look for a reply form, and Mrs. Spudder 
 had, of course, to find it for him. Then he scribbled 
 a few words, added a tip for the messenger, scrambled 
 into his coat and hat, and dashed off to see his super. 
 
 The letter informed him that the Connexional 
 Evangelist had suddenly failed them at Bramwell 
 through illness, and that as the arrangements had 
 all been made, and the season was late, they could 
 not now postpone the fixture. They had heard of 
 him through Mr. John Ledger and others ; would he 
 take the vacant place ? The writer was a friend of 
 his super. 's, and was writing him by that post to ask 
 that Mr. Ringley might be released from his ordinary 
 work for ten days. The missive concluded with an 
 earnest and flattering appeal to Max to come and 
 help them. An hour later a telegram accepting the 
 invitation had been sent, and Max was back in his 
 study trying to realise the new situation. He was 
 so excited he could not sit still ; pacing up and 
 down his large, long room, stumbling over kicked-up 
 edges of carpet, running against inconveniently 
 placed chairs, he scowled and tittered, scowled and 
 " Pshaw-ed " again, uttering between whiles all 
 sorts of odd ejaculations. 
 
 Coincidence ! It was no mere coincidence ; it was 
 a direct and most palpable Providential leading. He
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 309 
 
 would see Sallie, get to know her, and in ten days, 
 perhaps a fortnight, what might not be done ! 
 
 The opening was so startHngly opportune that 
 there must be something in it, and his sanguine tem- 
 perament led him to feel that his friend's difficulties 
 were already disposed of. 
 
 He would be very diplomatic, trust him for that ; 
 no rushing headlong at it, and spoiling the whole 
 game ; he would study her carefully, make sure of 
 his ground step by step, and then 
 
 And the light-hearted fellow hugged himself in 
 rosy anticipations of brilliant strategic success. His 
 heart grew soft again as he pictured to himself the 
 relief and comfort it would be to the too scrupulous 
 John. 
 
 " Dear old boy ! why, there was not anything on 
 earth he would not do for John." 
 
 All at once he pulled up abruptly, the tender look 
 vanished from his face, and a blank expression took 
 its place, accompanied by an almost frightened gasp, 
 and then the comic side of his last great idea came 
 upon him, and he threw himself into his elaborate 
 mechanical reading chair, and rolled about and held 
 his sides in uncontrollable laughter. 
 
 " Ye gods ! Ye gods ! it will kill me ! Lark ! There 
 never was such a lark ! " and then, springing out of 
 his chair, he cried, " Max ! Max ! she might transfer 
 her affections, she might\ " and away he went with 
 another roar. 
 
 " Imagine, sir ! the lady suggests a simple swop ! 
 She reads poetry and suggests Miles Standish to 
 thee, Max ! Oh, scrumptious ! Oh, glorious ! " and 
 dropping helplessly into his chair again he drew up 
 his legs and crowed and laughed, and crowed and 
 laughed again. 
 
 When at last his hilarity had exhausted itself, he 
 began to really look at the idea. He saw, of course,
 
 3IO 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 how wildly outrageous and hare-brained it was, but 
 that only made it appeal the more attractively to his 
 romantic, topsy-turvy nature. How it would startle 
 the respectables ! How the " saints " — Max had a 
 prejudice against " saints " — would lift up holy 
 hands in horror, and turn up the whites of their 
 eyes ! How their college chums would grin and the 
 old Governor look grave, with a glint in the tail ot 
 his e3'e ! Yes, it was a magnificently audacious idea, 
 and intensely fascinating on that account. It would 
 beat a novel, he told himself, and carry confusion 
 into the ranks of the " uncu guid." It did not 
 occur to him that he would be simply transferring 
 John's difficulty to himself; he only saw the fun of 
 the thing and the happy escape that would thus be 
 provided for his friend. 
 
 Gradually he grew quieter, a gentle light stole 
 back into his eyes, and the corners of his mouth 
 tightened a little, A photo of his friend stood on 
 the mantlepiece, and he presently got up and began 
 to look steadily at it. A long sigh escaped him as 
 he gazed, and then he cried, nodding at the picture, 
 " It's mad, my boy, of course ! It will never come off, 
 as you say ! but Johnny ! dear, good old Johnny ! 
 if there is a chance of it, and if she is passable, and 
 if there really is no other way out, mad and crazy 
 though it is, here's the chap that will do it ! " and then 
 gazing wistfully at the face in the photo until his 
 eyes grew wet, he said slowly and almost solemnl}^ 
 " Yes, dear boy ! here's the chap that will do it." 
 
 He had appointments at country places on the 
 following day, and as he walked from village to 
 village he repeated to himself his vow that nothing 
 should induce him to go to Partidge again, and on 
 his return journey he made the resolution four or 
 five times over with ever-increasing intensity ; but 
 on Monday morning he was the first person to alight
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 311 
 
 from the g.57 train at Partidge station. Circum- 
 stances alter cases, of course, and the fact that in a 
 few days he was due at John's circuit town of Bram- 
 well made it absolutely necessary that he should 
 interview his friend and get all the information 
 possible as to the character and condition of those 
 he was about to preach to ; and this was surely a 
 sufficient reason for waiving otherwise adamantine 
 resolutions. He knew nothing of what had taken 
 place since he left John, and so was astonished to 
 find his chum in bed with his mother attending him. 
 John was propped up in bed with a writing-board on 
 his knees, evidently composing a letter, but his 
 appearance had changed so shockingly during the 
 thirty odd hours since they parted, that for the 
 moment Max was too alarmed to notice John's 
 manner or occupation, until a furtive attempt on the 
 sick man's part to hide his correspondence attracted 
 his attention and excited his suspicion. And just 
 then the doctor was announced, and to Max's 
 increasing alarm he was accompanied by a physician 
 from Bellerby, a retired man who had great local 
 fame. He withdrew and wandered about restlessly 
 in the study until the consultation was over. They 
 were not very long he noted, with relief, but as they 
 were leaving the local medico came over to him and 
 said in subdued tones — 
 
 " You are Mr. Ledger's friend, I understand ? " 
 
 Max bowed and turned a suddenly whitened face 
 to his interrogator. 
 
 " Ah — ah — would 3'ou mind slipping down to my 
 surgery in about ten minutes? We should like to see 
 you." 
 
 Max felt his heart beating, but as the doctor 
 departed, Mrs. Ledger came out of the bedroom and 
 with anxious face asked what they had said. Max 
 told her, and then as he watched the face grow pale
 
 312 THE MINDER 
 
 and the lips quiver, he felt his own eyes were getting 
 dim, and with a sudden pathetic impulse he bent 
 over and reverently kissed the drawn face of the 
 mother of his friend. 
 
 " Mr. Ledger seems a reserved sort of man, Mr. 
 — a — a — Ringley," said the doctor, when Max, still 
 anxious and nervous, sat down in the consulting room. 
 
 Max nodded his head and looked at the physicians 
 inquiringly. 
 
 "Well now, you are his friend, his closest friend, 
 I understand. Is he fairly open with you — a — a — 
 about his private affairs, you know ? " 
 
 " I know all there is to know," and Max licked his 
 parched lips. 
 
 " Has he had any great shock lately that you 
 know of ? I don't want to know what it is, you 
 know." 
 
 " No," said Max rather bluntly, and then he 
 almost regretted having spoken so hastily. 
 
 " He has no financial troubles, or " 
 
 " Of course not ! he's my friend ! " and he seemed 
 to think that answer more than sufficient, but the 
 doctor was not quite so clear about it. 
 
 " Have you noticed that he is troubled about any 
 theological matters ? " 
 
 " If he were I should have known it. Of course 
 he's just passed a very stiff examination." 
 
 "Yes ! yes ! That is something, no doubt, but you 
 see, this is more than overstrain — " and then he 
 turned to his colleague and they conversed in an 
 undertone for a moment ; presently he turned and 
 looked calculatingly at Max, and then resumed 
 slowly — " You have never heard that there is insanity 
 in his family ? " 
 
 Max was getting angry ; a hot reply rose to his 
 lips, but curbing himself he said gruffly — 
 
 " I've never heard of any such thing."
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 313 
 
 There was another and longer consultation, and 
 then the specialist turned and began to move about 
 the room restlessly, with his hands in his pockets. 
 
 " Your friend, Mr. Ringley, has no disease upon him 
 whatever, but he's frightfully run down, his vitality 
 is very low, and the fact is the trouble is mental. 
 He is the victim of some fixed idea, probably a 
 hallucination; the index finger of his brain, so to 
 speak, does not move, and that, as I need not say, is 
 most dangerous. He needs no physic ; he must be 
 kept active ; change of scene and occupation are 
 imperative, and if you know anything that is likely 
 to be troubling him you must get it out of him or get 
 him to forget it." 
 
 Max asked several questions and was courteously 
 answered, but he got very little more light ; nothing, 
 in fact, but the oft-repeated injunction to get at the 
 bottom of his friend's troubles and take him away 
 somewhere. Max returned in a perplexed and 
 anxious state of mind ; some of the things he had 
 heard relieved him immensely, but the others so 
 exactly indicated the danger he was so well aware of 
 that he was almost frightened. Some of the duties 
 enjoined upon him, he knew he could discharge 
 better than anybody else, but in the graver and 
 more delicate things he was profoundly mistrustful. 
 Constitutionally he needed some one to lean upon, 
 and had had that privilege during the last three 
 years with John, but in this case he must act alone, 
 and the prospect made him very uneasy. One 
 moment, on the return journey, he started off with 
 a plunge to carry out his instructions, and the next 
 he found himself standing staring at the pavement 
 and wondering how he must act. He ran over in 
 his mind a list of college friends who might possibly 
 assist him, but found no one in whom he could con- 
 fide so delicate a business. Then he had a notion
 
 3H 
 
 THE MINDER 
 
 of going right away to Sallie and telling her the 
 whole truth, and appealing to her goodness of heart 
 to release John of her own free will, but as he could 
 not be certain that John would accept of any such 
 solution, he was compelled to abandon that also. 
 A great longing came over him to throw resolution 
 to the winds and go and consult the Wheelers — Mr. 
 Wheeler particularly — but as he could not decide 
 that it would be quite fair to his friend to do this 
 without his consent, that hope had to be relinquished 
 like the rest. He had arrived at John's lodgings by 
 this time, and as the period of action was now come, 
 he darted upstairs and bounced into the bedroom 
 with much of his usual boisterousness. Mrs. Ledger 
 met him at the top of the stairs, and checking a mad 
 impulse to hug her, he whispered a few words that 
 brought the light back into her eyes, and then 
 dashing past he bounded into the room, crying, 
 " Come out o' this ! Arise and shine ! No more 
 malingering nonsense here ! Get up, sir ! Get up, I 
 say — where's that water jug ? " and he made a snatch 
 at the quilt and gave a jerk to it, when he suddenly 
 caught sight of the letter John had previously con- 
 cealed. It fluttered out with the corner of the bed- 
 cover, and John, who was beginning to smile in a 
 wan sort of way, uttered a cry of alarm and put out 
 his hand for the epistle. Max, hurriedly justifying 
 himself by the instructions he had received, took a 
 glance at it as he picked it up, and noticed that it 
 commenced " Dear Mr. President." He could 
 scarcely suppress the exclamation that rushed to his 
 lips, but with a hasty covering joke about love 
 letters he flung it back to the sick man, and then 
 resumed his clamour for John to get up. " He says 
 you're foxing, man ! You're coming the old soldier! 
 Get up, I say ! Where is that water jug ? " 
 John, however, was engaged in concealing his
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 315 
 
 unfinished letter, and so, to flatter the idea that he 
 had noticed nothing. Max resumed his blustering 
 demands. 
 
 "Up, sir! I'm in command now! Valet, sir? 
 certainly — at your service ! Twenty pounds a year 
 and parquisites ! Stockings, sir ? here you are ! 
 Shaving water, sir ? hot, sir ? why, of course ! " 
 
 Laughing in spite of himself as the mad fellow 
 rattled on, John was soon up and dressed, and as 
 the fire had now been lighted in his own room, he 
 joined his nurses and listened listlessly whilst Max, 
 with his ridiculous comic embeUishments and his 
 own reservations, detailed the instructions he had 
 received. Then he evoked the ready sympathy of 
 Mrs. Ledger by describing himself as suffering 
 acutely from brain-fag in consequence of the strenuous 
 efforts he had made at the recent examinations, and 
 when this, as he hoped, produced another faint smile 
 from John, he plunged into an account of the invita- 
 tion he had received for the mission at Bramwell, 
 and as that brought fresh inspiration he announced 
 that he should stay with them all the week, and then 
 they would all adjourn together to John's old home ; 
 his instructions were imperative, and he was going 
 to carry them out ; John was to do no work for a 
 month at least. This last statement was, of course, 
 purely apocryphal, but he leaned back as he made it, 
 and avoiding John's eye, bestowed a complicated 
 wink on the anxious mother. Taking her cue from 
 him, the old lady fell in with the suggestion eagerly, 
 and when John attempted to demur he was met by a 
 stentorian schoolmaster-like " Silence ! " and sternly 
 informed that he was under authority. After a 
 light repast Max sent for a conveyance, and mounting 
 the box took them out for a long drive, keeping 
 John close to his side and chattering away with 
 riotous banter that opened Mrs. Ledger's eyes again
 
 3i6 THE MINDER 
 
 and again and made her wonder whether this could 
 really be a minister of religion and her son's chosen 
 companion. But he soon found that he had under- 
 taken no easy task ; his mirth, being forced, tired him 
 strangely, and Monday was one of the longest days 
 he had ever spent. Whenever, during the drive, he 
 glanced at John, he found him abstracted and pain- 
 fully depressed, and as he only replied in mono- 
 syllables, it became increasingly difficult to maintain 
 a conversation. As Mrs. Ledger occupied the only 
 spare bed in the house, and he did not intend to let 
 John out of his sight, he contrived that it should be 
 agreed for them to sleep together at least for a night 
 or two. All the evening he tried to interest John in 
 books, and found that the only subject he cared in 
 the least for was next year's examinations, themes 
 Max's soul hated. But he conquered his repugnance 
 and commenced reading aloud, only to discover that 
 the other was not following him, but was evidently 
 absorbed in his own gloomy reflections. In bed 
 that night he got the first opportunity for quiet 
 thought. How ever was he to get through a week 
 like this ? and what would be the end of all these 
 cruel entanglements ? To whom could he go for 
 counsel and support ? Why ? oh why had God 
 allowed so extremely conscientious a man to wander 
 into this hopeless cul-de-sac ? Over and over again 
 he turned his harassing dubitations, and then he 
 heard the clock strike twelve, and turned over with 
 a fierce resolve to go to sleep. All at once he 
 remembered about John's unfinished letter. He 
 knew instinctively that it was his formal resignation 
 as a minister — the headline made suspicion all but 
 certainty — what else could he have to write to so high 
 an authority about ? But what had become of it ? 
 It had not yet been sent, he was sure, and he must 
 take care that it never was. John had certainl}' not
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 317 
 
 posted it yet, and he must see that he got no oppor- 
 tunity of doing so. What was there in the letter ? 
 John had never alluded to it — a most suspicious 
 circumstance. They understood each other entirely ; 
 if he could get hold of the letter and destroy it, 
 John would understand that no such thing could be 
 done with his consent and whilst he was there. 
 Should he get softly out of bed and try to find it ? 
 He had no scruple either in reading or burning it ; 
 he was only carrying out his instructions. John had 
 been very quiet now for nearly an hour. Was he 
 asleep ? He raised himself upon his elbow and 
 looked over, and then sank back with a smothered 
 cry, for the patient lay on his back with his eyes 
 wide open, and evidently unconscious where he was. 
 Max's head dropped on the pillow with a groan. 
 How much longer was this miserable torture 
 going on ? 
 
 On Tuesday Sallie came, accompanied by the Bram- 
 well super. 's daughter, and Max, whilst welcoming 
 the interesting diversion, soon found fresh cause for 
 worry in the confirmation of his previous suspicions. 
 She was fussy enough about John for a few moments, 
 but soon showed to his friend's jealous eye that her 
 concern was not very deep. He had arranged for 
 another drive, and was surprised and a little excited 
 when Sallie proposed to sit by his side on the box. 
 He could not deny that she was pretty, and certainly 
 exerted herself to be entertaining, and by the time 
 John and he went to see them off at the station, he 
 and Sallie were on the best possible terms. It was 
 always easy for the impulsive fellow to imagine 
 himself in love with the last fair woman he had met, 
 and he began to think that really his ridiculous and 
 outrageous idea of solving all difficulties by stealing 
 his friend's sweetheart was not so altogether wild and 
 mad as he had thought. Sallie did not attempt to
 
 3i8 THE MINDER 
 
 conceal her delight at the prospect of his coming 
 visit to Bramwell ; though Max would have liked 
 her better if she had been more interested in the 
 fact that John was going too. He slept soundly that 
 night, and it was as well he did, for next day was 
 wild and wet, and they were condemned to a long 
 endurance indoors. John seemed uneasier than ever, 
 and more than once announced his intention of 
 going out, rain or no rain ; but on Max making it 
 clear that he would go with him, he seemed to 
 grow more resigned, and abandoned the project. 
 "That letter," said Max to himself. It proved a 
 draggy, depressing, never-ending sort of a day, and 
 as Max saw his friend sinking and growing more 
 haggard every hour, he grew desperate and resolved 
 to thresh the matter out again, even if it were only 
 a fruitless repetition of old arguments. When they 
 had retired for the night, therefore, he closed and 
 locked the bedroom door, and startled John by 
 challenging him about the letter. To his surprise 
 the dejected fellow seemed glad to talk, and so they 
 began, and step by step and point by point went 
 over the whole ground. 
 
 " It only wants strength," cried John, at the end 
 of an hour's hard contention ; " it only wants 
 manliness and a little common honesty to put the 
 whole thing right." 
 
 " How ? " and Max stared at his companion, half 
 anticipating the answer. 
 
 " How ! I must do the plain right. I must set 
 Sallie free, I must resign the ministry I am no longer 
 fit for, and I must stamp the image of Mary Wheeler 
 out of my heart." 
 
 " Never ! you shall not ! God is not a monster ! 
 Some way will open if you will only wait, man!" 
 
 " God ! " shouted John, and his whole frame shook 
 with emotion. ** Is God the condoner of sin ? Are
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 319 
 
 we to use Him to save us from the consequences of 
 our own folly ? Are we to expect Him to do for 
 us what we can do for ourselves, and what for the 
 sake of our own spiritual discipline and development 
 we ought to do for ourselves ? God is mercy, God is 
 love, but God is not soft.'' 
 
 It was no use : Max the healthy-minded, the 
 nimble-witted, the incurably-sanguine, had hoped 
 to carry his point over John's feebleness by clam- 
 ourous and impetuous rush of argument, but he soon 
 realised that whatever might be the matter with his 
 friend's body, his mind was clear enough, and saw 
 everything with vivid, inexorable, even exaggerated 
 distinctness ; and so, after another long hour of 
 haggling, which became more than once quite peevish, 
 they ended where they had begun, and neither of 
 them slept a wink that night. 
 
 Returning from a drive, abbreviated by the 
 weather, next day, they found a note waiting them 
 containing an invitation from Rose Cottage to spend 
 the evening ; and Max, weary and disheartened, 
 allowed himself to be comforted by the thought that 
 some help would surely come to him out of this 
 visit. At the last moment John turned stubborn, 
 and it was only when Max refused point blank to 
 go without him that he yielded. The afternoon 
 passed rather drearily, and it was a relief to more 
 than one there when the male Wheelers came home. 
 John even seemed to rouse up a little, for Mr. 
 Wheeler made so much of his mother that he was 
 touched by it, and exerted himself to be agreeable. 
 All the same, every time he was left to himself he 
 was found with bent head absorbed in painfully sad 
 reflections. Mark Wheeler had rigged up a little 
 lathe in an upstairs back room, and made some 
 pretty articles of furniture, and as Mrs. Ledger 
 expressed interest in his work, and there was also a
 
 320 THE MINDER 
 
 model of Mary's patent to be seen there, the whole 
 of those who were talking with the young mechanic 
 adjourned upstairs, and Max, gnawing his thumbs 
 and fighting with his perplexities, suddenly found 
 himself left alone with Miss Wheeler. She had been 
 playing for them, and still sat on the stool toying 
 absently with the piano keys. He watched her 
 furtively for a few minutes, but presently raising his 
 eyes he caught her looking at him. She neither 
 blushed nor smiled, but got quietly up, slipped 
 between him and the sofa arm, sat down close to 
 him, and then said gently — 
 
 " Mr. Ledger doesn't seem much better, Mr. 
 Ringley." 
 
 Max, nearly at his wits'-end with preplexity, felt 
 that those soft tones were sending the cup of his 
 troubles brimming over, and so he raised his head 
 and answered chokily — 
 
 "No." 
 
 Mary sat looking at him sideways, and then with a 
 sudden impulse she leaned forward, and placing her 
 hand shyly on his with a momentary touch she 
 said — 
 
 " God bless you ! Mr. Ringley, you're a true friend 
 to him." 
 
 Max's head dropped suddenly on his breast ; he 
 turned away his eyes, and then, with a swift change, 
 he looked up into her face, and in a voice trembling 
 with feeling he stammered — 
 
 " It's nothing to what he's been to me. Oh, Miss 
 Wheeler, there'll never be another John Ledger ! " 
 
 It was the Wheelers who had arranged for the 
 specialist, and so, using the little information she had, 
 Mary, after another long pause, said — 
 
 " It is some mental or spiritual trouble, I 
 understand." 
 
 Max did not answer all at once ; slowly, however,
 
 MAX RINGLEY HAS AN IDEA 321 
 
 he raised his head again and looked at her until the 
 colour began to rise. Ah ! this was a girl indeed ! 
 Here was a heart that could feel with him if only he 
 dared tell her. His was not the sort of temperament 
 to have to bear lonely burdens. Oh, that he could 
 talk to somebody — her, for instance ! He would tell 
 her a little — nothing compromising, nothing that he 
 ought not, but just enough to let her see where he 
 was, and evoke her precious sympathy. No ! — Yes ! 
 Well, he would be very discreet, and so as he talked, 
 and the wonderful face he was watching grew soft 
 with tender interest, his sore heart opened more and 
 more, and he was soon pouring out the whole story. 
 But he was not going to break his trust even under 
 these gracious circumstances, and so he only men- 
 tioned that there was a second lady, of whom he was 
 careful to speak in the third person. Mary was 
 utterly unconscious, or seemed so to him. With 
 parted lips and moist eyes she hung upon his words, 
 until, gazing at her and absorbed in the witching 
 glamour of her flattering and tender sympathy, he 
 suddenly slipped out the wrong pronoun, and she 
 was on her feet, the blood surging up through neck 
 and cheek, and her whole face dyed in crimson. For 
 a moment she stood in speechless embarrassment, 
 and then, as footsteps were heard coming downstairs, 
 she turned and rushed away, leaving him covered 
 with confusion and shame, and more miserable than 
 he had ever been. 
 
 How he got through the rest of that evening Max 
 could never tell, and though Betty surpassed herself 
 in audacious banter, he never rallied, and was heartily 
 glad when the time came to depart. The only thing 
 that interested him was the reappearance of Mary, 
 but when at last she rejoined the company, except 
 that she was a little paler, he could detect nothing 
 that gave him any clue to her mind. When they 
 
 M. Y
 
 322 THE MINDER 
 
 were departing, however, as the little lobby did not 
 give room enough for them all at once, Mary brought 
 his coat into the little dining-room, and as she 
 helped him on, she whispered — 
 
 " Mr. Ledger's troubles are very great, Mr. 
 Ringley," and as he turned to look at her, wonder- 
 ing why she should make so very common-place a 
 remark, she went on, " but none but a good and 
 true man would ever have them ; have faith in 
 God, dear friend ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 
 
 To the surprise of everybody at Rose Cottage, the 
 reserved and almost stately Mary seemed almost gay 
 in her high spirits when the visitors had left them. 
 She hummed a tune, and smiled as she removed her 
 father's shoes and playfully put on his slippers ; she 
 pulled Betty's long hair, and then kissed her for 
 apology ; she shpped into the little drawing-room, 
 and strummed a few bars almost wildly on the piano, 
 and then broke off abruptly to speak to their solitary 
 domestic, whom she greatly astonished by addressing 
 as " dear." Presently she broke out in earnest 
 praise of Max for his devotion to his friend, but 
 turned her head away in secret tears as her father 
 expressed concern about John ; in fact her whole 
 conduct was so unlike her ordinary demeanour, that 
 the men-folk went to bed mildly wondering what had 
 come over her. The house was so small that she 
 and Betty had to occupy the same room, but to-night 
 she bustled her sister off before her, and having also 
 got rid of the servant, she extinguished all the lights 
 in the kitchen and lobby, and then, retreating to the 
 warm dining-room, turned up the gas, and throwing 
 herself into a big easy-chair, abandoned herself to 
 thought. She was evidently profoundly affected ; 
 her eyes swam with soft warm light, her perfectly 
 white skin seemed to gleam as from some deep, 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 THE MINDER 
 
 powerful, inward pleasure, and she sighed once and 
 again with infinite contentment — 
 
 " He will not ! " she murmured, with proud, 
 confident joy, " he will not even for me " — and 
 then, clasping her hands together, she cried, " Let 
 him be true, O God ! Let him conquer ! Let 
 him stand the test, and be a man, and do what 
 Thou wilt with me ! " 
 
 She sat musing in silence, and then, gazing absently 
 at the jets in the little gas fire, she went on — 
 
 " Love him ! Yea ! If he fails I'll love him for 
 the grand struggle he is making ; but if he conquers, 
 if he conquers, I'll be proud to kiss his feet ! " 
 
 The glow of excitement faded slowly out of her 
 face, and a long fit of pensive musing followed. All 
 at once she started to her feet, crying — 
 
 " But it is wrong to love him ! I'm committing the 
 very sin I want to see him conquer ! " 
 
 She turned half round with a repudiating gesture, 
 and drew herself in as though shrinking from some 
 suddenly discovered reptile ; her breath came in 
 short, quick gasps, and she cried out in a sort of 
 holy horror — 
 
 " I'm expecting him to do what I cannot do 
 myself." 
 
 Slowly, and as if all her strength had suddenly 
 failed her, she sank down upon her knees, and 
 bowing her head over the table and covering her 
 face with her hands, she moaned — 
 
 ** Now I know ! Now I understand what he 
 suffers! Poor, poor Mr. Ledger!" 
 
 For fully five minutes she remained motionless 
 where she was, and finally, throwing back her 
 head and revealing a drawn, vehement face, she 
 cried — 
 
 " I cannot ! I cannot ! I do not ask to have him. 
 Let him win his battle, Lord ! Let me love him in
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 325 
 
 secret and in silence for ever! O God! Great, 
 
 good God ! I am only a woman ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 Max returned to John's lodgings that night in a 
 very uneasy, fluctuating condition of mind. He saw 
 now why Mary Wheeler could not care for him, but 
 he saw also what serious complications might arise 
 from his foolish confidences. But, after all, Mary 
 knew the exact position of things now, and he could 
 not entirely condemn himself. She was a wonderful 
 girl, and he felt towards her all that quiet trustfulness 
 which she contrived to inspire in the minds of all 
 who came to know her. On the whole, therefore, he 
 would like to have encouraged himself, and perhaps 
 would have done so but for two puzzling facts. One 
 was that he could no longer disguise from himself 
 that some change was coming over John which he 
 did not know how to interpret, and the other that 
 Mrs. Ledger gave ominous indications that she had 
 got to the end of her patience, and would not much 
 longer be kept without a fuller explanation as to the 
 condition of her son. He knew that examinations 
 and over-work and recent friction in the circuit 
 would not serve any longer as explanations, and he 
 would either have to invent something else or tell 
 her the truth. He had carried out the doctor's 
 directions with painful exactitude, and had never left 
 John for a moment night or day, except when 
 absolutely compelled, and then for the fewest possible 
 minutes. But all that Thursday Mrs. Ledger had 
 given signs of wanting to speak to him alone, and he 
 began to feel that if he did not heed her there would 
 be fresh complications. 
 
 As they were retiring, therefore, he made a little 
 signal to "mother" as, to her great delight, he had 
 taken to calling her, and when John had dropped 
 upon his knees by the bedside, he threw a dressing
 
 326 THE MINDER 
 
 gown over his shoulders and joined the waiting 
 mother in the other room. 
 
 With the simple directness which reminded him 
 of John, she went straight to the point. There was 
 not only something wrong with her son, but that 
 something was of the most serious character, and 
 they were keeping it from her. Did Max know what 
 it was ? He had grown confident, almost conceited, 
 about his diplomacy during this very trying week, 
 and so he gave her an evasive reply, which was the 
 amplest confirmation he could have furnished of her 
 fears ; and the next moment she had put her finger 
 on the very spot. 
 
 When she mentioned Sallie, he was startled, but 
 when, in the very next sentence, she plumped out the 
 name of Mary Wheeler, Max began to look at her 
 as though she were something uncanny. There was 
 a strained silence between them after he had made 
 his half-unconscious nod of admission, and then, with 
 a long, soft sigh, she said — 
 
 " Sallie's been very good to us all — but she's shallow! 
 You know she never cared for him, for himself " 
 
 " I think Miss Wheeler's more like the sort of 
 girl for " 
 
 " Her ! " interrupted the anxious mother, " H-a-y. 
 Ay, she's solid gold that creature is ; she's good 
 enough even for him." 
 
 There was a movement in the adjoining bedroom, 
 and they both glanced nervously towards the door. 
 
 " It's hard ! It's terrible hard ! " moaned the poor 
 mother. 
 
 " We must help him, mother ! We must do some- 
 thing ! What are we good for if we cannot help him 
 now? " 
 
 Mrs. Ledger looked up in a little alarm, and seemed 
 about to object, but then another thought came, and 
 she dropped her eyes, and looked wistfully into the
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 327 
 
 dying fire. " We munnat meddle ! It's between him 
 and his Maker, you know " — and then, Ufting her head, 
 with rapt face and ghstening eyes she added, "We 
 must help him as Moses helped Joshua. He's fightin' 
 t' Malekites in t' valley, and we mun pray in t' 
 mountain. We shall be in good company, you know." 
 
 " Good company, mother? " 
 
 " Ay, Miss Wheeler's prayin' for him this very 
 minute, and we mun help her. — Good night, my lad," 
 and making a shy, hasty snatch at his hand, she 
 hurriedly kissed it, and moved off to her own bedroom. 
 
 Max heaved a sigh of relief; somehow his burden 
 seemed lighter, and he almost burst into a cry of 
 thankfulness when, on re-entering his bedroom and 
 leaning over, he found John, for the first time, to his 
 knowledge, that week, fast asleep. 
 
 The patient was distinctly better next morning; he 
 talked a little after breakfast, and conducted their 
 family devotions himself. His face was pinched 
 enough, and his eyes looked sadl}^ hollow ; but self- 
 possession and interest in life were evidently coming 
 back to him, and Max struggled between hope and mis- 
 giving. It looked as though John had won his battle 
 and made up his mind, but how ? What had he con- 
 cluded to do ? and Max would have given much to 
 have had the answer to these questions. They were to 
 leave in the forenoon, John and his mother going 
 straight home, and Max returning to his circuit until 
 next day, when he would join them at Bramwell. He 
 had so many things to think of that he only returned 
 to the pressing anxieties connected with John now and 
 again. Many a time during the Friday evening he 
 laughed at himself and his fantastic plan for delivering 
 his friend, and though at bottom he saw its quixotic 
 and absurd character, there was something about it 
 that fascinated him, and he found himself saying that 
 if the worst came to the worst and Sallie improved as
 
 328 THE MINDER 
 
 much on acquaintance as he felt she very easily 
 might, all women being wonderfully delightful and 
 trustworthy to him, he would make a plunge of it, and 
 astonish John by taking the " stumbling-block " out 
 of the way. Once the question insinuated itself into 
 his pleasantly dreamy meditations, " How would John 
 take such a manoeuvre ? " but he shut it out again. 
 The wild, romantic absurdity of the idea vastly enter- 
 tained him, and he did not know that the fact that it 
 would, in all probability, never be tried made it the 
 more delightful to speculate upon. 
 
 " Ye gods ! " he chuckled as he sat over his Quaker 
 oats that night, "ye Gods! what a cackle there 
 would be ! Stealing the sweetheart of his greatest 
 friend ! Ha, ha ! Max, my boy, you'd be the talk of 
 the Connexion for once ! Abominable treachery by 
 a probationer ! The Conference paralysed with 
 indignation ! It's spicy ! It's nuts ! " 
 
 Then he flung his spoon into the large teacup that 
 had held his food, and as the occasion seemed to 
 justify any recklessness, he groped in a box at the 
 side of his bookcase, and pulled out a faded and 
 precarious cigarette, and in brazen defiance of Con- 
 nexional regulations, lighted it and flung himself 
 back into his reading-chair, stretched out his long 
 legs, and chuckled again. " The Bramwellians will 
 mob me," he grinned ; "the diminutive broker will 
 call me 'Judas,' and threaten my life; the ' saints ' 
 will be horrified; the Chairman will insist on a minor 
 Synod ; brother Ringley will be hauled up before 
 his betters, and then — then — Mysterious collapse 
 of the prosecution ! Pathetic plea for the prisoner 
 by the prosecutor, and — and — and — Tableau ! " 
 
 At her father's death Sallie had improved her 
 worldly appearance, and had gone to live, with Aunt 
 Pizer as a housekeeper, in a pretty little villa next 
 door but one to the super. She was left better off
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 329 
 
 than was expected, and had set up a Httle governess 
 car, which the super, occasionally had the loan of, 
 and so Max, notwitstanding the great crazy plan 
 he had in his head, was rather taken aback when 
 the minister, after a hearty greeting, led the way to 
 the station gate and introduced him to Sallie herself, 
 seated with the reins in her hand, evidently waiting 
 for him. She received him effusivel}^ made him sit 
 next to her, complimented him on his healthy appear- 
 ance, and then rattled off into an animated and most 
 flattering description of the grand doings they were 
 expecting during the mission. This was playing 
 into his hands with a vengeance ; but, to his own 
 surprise, it rather ruffled him, and he asked somewhat 
 gruffly — 
 
 " How's John ? " 
 
 Sallie left the super, to answer, and before they 
 were out of the station yard she was leaning over 
 towards him, to the peril of the driving, and telling 
 him that they were all very glad indeed that the 
 Connexional evangelist could not come. He was 
 to be entertained at the Manse, and Sallie, who was 
 evidently on the best of terms with the occupants, 
 came in to tea, and kept him in conversation and 
 pressed dainties upon him until the poor fellow was 
 out of countenance, and wished her far enough. 
 What disgusted him most was that John was not 
 there, and that Sallie never alluded to him, and, in 
 fact, showed no concern for his welfare, but even 
 kept Max half an hour in the drawing-room con- 
 sulting him about the hymns to be used at the 
 services, even after he had announced his desire to 
 go and see his chum. And next day it was worse. 
 She sent him some flowers to adorn the breakfast 
 table, insisted on driving him and the rest of the 
 occupants of the house to chapel, though the dis- 
 tance was short, and Max had scruples about
 
 330 THE MINDER 
 
 unnecessary Sunday labour. At any other time 
 he would have been pleased with the excellent 
 taste she had displayed in her dress, but now he 
 felt irritated as he glanced at her, and listened to 
 her chatter with an inward resentment he had diffi- 
 culty in keeping out of his face. She was delighted 
 with his sermon, and with affected shyness declined 
 the invitation to dine, insisting that he would want 
 a *' nap " — a thing which Max detested on a Sunday. 
 She came in, however, to tea, and spent the rest of 
 the day with them. 
 
 " Where's John ? " he demanded abruptly, as they 
 were walking home after the evening service. " And 
 why is he not dressed in clericals ? " 
 
 " Isn't he ? I never noticed ! You see, we know 
 him so well, we don't observe." 
 
 " It would be better for you if you did know him," 
 Max thought, but what he said was simply a muffled 
 grunt. 
 
 The services, in spite of the lateness of the season, 
 were a great success. Max had the golden mouth ; 
 in the pulpit he was irresistible, and very delightful 
 results began to manifest themselves, and the little 
 town simmered with excitement. On Monday Sallie 
 came with John in the governess car, and insisted on 
 taking them both out for a long drive ; and on Tues- 
 day the experiment was repeated, but by this time 
 Max had conceived a feeling towards Sallie which 
 made him barely civil to her. The services seemed 
 to be doing John good ; he entered heartily into 
 them, and Max was delighted that anything could 
 appeal to him and bring him out of his hopeless 
 lassitude. It was decided to continue the gatherings 
 to the end of the second week, and Max's chief 
 anxiety was how to deal with the almost indecently 
 prominent attentions of Sallie. But on the Thursday 
 he never saw her all day ; she was absent from the
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 331 
 
 Bible reading service in the afternoon, where she had 
 hitherto generally sung a solo, and did not turn up at 
 night; and he discovered by a cautious question that 
 she had not been, as he hoped, with John. On Friday, 
 inquiry by the Manse people elicited the information 
 that Miss Wood was unwell, and Max had so strong 
 a prejudice against her, that he had not the charity 
 to believe in her excuse, but suspected her crafty 
 angling for sympathy. 
 
 Max was in trouble with himself. He had always 
 had such faith in all women, and this girl was actually 
 making him feel mean and suspicious towards them. 
 He would see her at Jericho before he would ask after 
 her again. The idea of delivering his friend by running 
 away with Sallie still seemed to him a triumph of 
 brilliant strategy, but he also realised that it was 
 impossible as far as he was concerned. He could 
 not, even to save John Ledger. 
 
 The second Sunday, a day long to be remembered 
 in Bramwell Methodism, passed away. Such con- 
 gregations, such "unction," and such delightful 
 results as the oldest Methodist had never seen before. 
 Wilky Drax, with whom Max had struck up a violent 
 friendship, refused to open his shop at all on the 
 Monday, but spent his time standing at the paint 
 shop door bareheaded, and tackling any unre- 
 generates who gave him the opportunity about 
 their " souls." 
 
 On Monday morning, however, Max declined an 
 invitation for a drive with the super., and went and 
 hunted John up, with the intention of having things 
 out with him. John responded promptly enough, 
 and they strolled out and down the old lane beyond 
 Ledger's house. 
 
 "That is where Sallie was born," said John 
 languidly, as they passed the farm. 
 
 "And the place where you went courting, eh?
 
 332 THE MINDER 
 
 Now, old fellow, where are we? I'm getting out 
 of my depth." 
 
 " Just where we were," and the old haggard look 
 came back into his face. 
 
 "Ah ! " and Max pulled up and looked searchingly at 
 his friend. "Johnny, old chap, I was beginning to hope ; 
 you have seemed so much better this last few days." 
 
 " Yes, one cause of anxiety has been removed." 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 " I can see clearly enough that — well, that it will 
 not break her heart." 
 
 " Ah ! Good ! Then if she doesn't make a fuss " 
 
 " Ah, that's another thing ! That is just what she 
 would do, unless she had another string to her bow, 
 of which I see no sign. I was afraid that I was 
 slighting a true woman's love, but I don't think now 
 she ever really cared for me." 
 
 " More fool she, then. But ' all's well that ends 
 well.' We shall worry through now." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " How ? Well, if she never really cared for you, 
 you've done her no great harm. Throw her over, and 
 serve her right. If the worst comes to the worst, you'll 
 only get put back a year or two, and Mary will wait." 
 
 " Oh, Max, will you never see ? " 
 
 " See what ? It's all right, isn't it ? " 
 
 John wearily shook his head. 
 
 " Well, of all the But what's the hitch now ? " 
 
 " God ! " 
 
 " God ? Ledger, I could shake you ! You're 
 morbid, man ; you're dotty ! " 
 
 " Max," and John spoke in that deliberate, quietly- 
 decided tone at once so inexorable and yet so irritating 
 to his friend, " God took me, a poor factory lad, and 
 lifted me into this holy ministry, and I have dis- 
 honoured myself and brought pain and shame upon 
 others by ceasing to love the woman I was pledged
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 333 
 
 to, and — oh, bitterness of hell — loving another 
 woman." 
 
 " But hang it, man ! " cried Max, at this dogged 
 repetition of a statement he was utterly weary of 
 hearing; and then he broke off and demanded 
 sullenly, " Well, what's your gnat-straining prudery 
 going to do next ? " 
 
 John blinked his eyes and winced, and then, 
 drawing himself together, he said slowly — 
 
 " The least I can do in gratitude for the fact that 
 Sallie is not injured is to prevent Methodism having 
 the pain of expelling me. The money Methodism 
 has spent upon me shall not be lost. I'll earn my 
 own living, and preach every Sunday as a layman — 
 if they'll let me." 
 
 And that was only the commencement of the 
 argument. For over an hour they went at it, ding, 
 dong ! Max shouted and gesticulated, dropped his 
 voice, and nearly cried in tender expostulation ; 
 bullied, almost threatened, until at last, nervous 
 and excitable with the results upon himself of his 
 preaching efforts, and utterly exasperated at John's 
 relentless interpretation of the situation, he turned 
 and snapped out a sentence he would have given 
 worlds to recall the very next moment — 
 
 *' Confound it, man, don't be such a Pharisee ! 
 
 She is injured after all Oh, Johnny, don't ! 
 
 Dear old Johnny, don't ! I didn't mean it ! Forgive 
 me 1 " 
 
 But the mischief was done. In the state of mind 
 into which John had brought himself, he saw at once 
 that, though Sallie might still be heart-whole, yet in 
 the judgment even of his friend he had done her a 
 great injury, and at least had interfered with her 
 chances of becoming suitably and happily married. 
 
 This appeared to Max a ridiculous refinement of 
 the facts, but to John it was terribly real, and though
 
 334 THE MINDER 
 
 he still clung to his one little crumb of comfort, the 
 iron had been forced into his soul once more, and he 
 gave himself up to fresh self-reproach. 
 
 ''Then you've made up your mind?" said Max 
 fiercely, after another half-hour's struggle. 
 
 John sighed, looked at his friend with eyes that 
 wrung Max's soul, and then said quietly — 
 
 " I shall write to the President to-day." 
 
 Max had to struggle with his emotions for some 
 time, and at last, putting his hand on John's shoulder 
 with a half-caressing touch, so natural and yet so 
 irresistible in him, he asked, with the suspicion of 
 tears in his eyes, and voice that was almost choked — 
 
 " Dear old fellow, grant me one last request." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 "Wait one week; just one little week. I feel 
 sure something will be done before then. If you 
 ought to leave the ministry, where am I and lots of 
 others of us ? Wait a week ; just one week." 
 
 " It would have been all over a fortnight ago but 
 for you ; will you promise me not to ask me again ? " 
 
 " I promise." 
 
 " Then I will wait one week, but nothing will 
 come of it ; nothing can come of it." 
 
 They parted presently, and Max, perturbed and 
 infinitely saddened, left his friend at the door of his 
 mother's cottage, and was plunging along the street, 
 when, glancing aside, he caught sight of Sallie Wood, 
 and she was actually trying to pass him unobserved ! 
 Yes, and it was not prudery. She was confused and 
 shy, but entirely without affectation. As their eyes 
 met, it came into Max's mind to appeal to her to 
 release John. He would tell her the whole truth, 
 and surely she would have some sense and some 
 mercy. But the sight of her face touched him ; her 
 evident but inexplicable embarrassment puzzled him ; 
 and he began to wonder whether she was in some
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 335 
 
 spiritual trouble. Common politeness prompted him 
 to ask after her health, and to enquire where she 
 had been the last few days. She seemed to be angry 
 at her own confusion, and recovering with a great 
 effort, explained that she was not very well, and then 
 put out her hand to part. In sheer astonishment he 
 let her go, and walked back to the Manse more per- 
 plexed and distraught than ever. He soon found 
 himself pitying the girl. She was fond of John after 
 all, and had found out something which was giving 
 her great distress. When she came once more to 
 the afternoon meeting and took the solo, she looked 
 so tenderly and wistfully sorrowful that he called 
 himself a brute for his hard thoughts, and began to 
 fear that he had been doing her a wrong in urging 
 John to break with her. And so the time slipped by. 
 The mission closed on the Friday night, but there 
 was to be a grand tea meeting on the Saturday for 
 the reception of the hundred and sixty odd new 
 converts, and Max had been prevailed upon to stay 
 for the gathering, although it would mean reaching 
 his own home about midnight. During the time he 
 had been in Bramwell the fantastic idea of proposing 
 to Sallie as a means of relieving his friend had been 
 driven from his mind by his unconquerable dislike of 
 her, and now the soft-hearted fellow was beginning 
 to turn to it again out of sheer pity for her. 
 Successful always with women, save for one memo- 
 rable instance, and sustained by that harmless sort 
 of vanity so characteristic of such natures, he did not 
 greatly doubt that he could comfort her, and really it 
 was a hard case to be robbed of a husband, and 
 especially such a husband as he felt certain John 
 would make. "Poor girl! poor little thing!" he 
 said to himself again and again. " She has a heart 
 after all, and she's pretty. She's prettier than ever 
 now she's in trouble and ill."
 
 336 THE MINDER 
 
 All this affected his nerves, already unstrung by 
 the excitements of the mission, and on Saturday 
 morning he was so restless he could neither read 
 nor think. He would require a sermon for his own 
 pulpit at Longhope on the following morning, but, 
 though he shut himself up in the super.'s study, he 
 only seemed thereby to be giving a better opportunity 
 to the worrying enemy to harass him. Nothing 
 could he think of but Sallie and John, and John and 
 Sallie, and then Sallie and himself. More than once 
 the impulse came upon him to rush out and tell her 
 how John felt, and then if she did seem cut up about 
 it, why he must comfort her — he must, even if she 
 were very disconsolate ; — but he never got further 
 than that. 
 
 Then he wondered whether it would do any good to 
 unbosom himself to that motherly soul, Mrs. Clough- 
 ton, his hostess. Yes, — but no; the remembrance 
 that the things that burdened his heart were others' 
 secrets as well as his checked him, and he got no 
 further. At dinner he ate so little that his hostess 
 insisted on dosing him with nux vomica, and he was 
 too weary and sick at heart to resist. 
 
 " It is May day, Mr. Ringley ; go out into the 
 garden a while, it will do you good," said the motherly 
 soul, and Max, indifferent what he did, sauntered 
 forth presently into the sunshine. There was a large 
 kitchen garden behind the Manse into which Max 
 had never been, but after wandering aimlessly about 
 in the front for a few moments, he raised the catch of 
 the trellis gate and entered. The super, joined him 
 for sometime, and then was called away to attend to 
 a caller. Max was glad to be alone again, and 
 wandered up and down the neatly trimmed paths, 
 pondering the difficulty which had taken such hold 
 upon him. Scarcely knowing what he did, he strayed 
 toward the bottom of the garden, and spying a seat,
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 337 
 
 flung himself down upon it and was soon absorbed 
 in fretful musings. Presently he heard footsteps 
 approaching, and expecting to see the super, returning 
 to him he raised his head, but there was no one 
 in sight. The footsteps came nearer ; they were 
 evidently behind him, close to him in fact, and just as 
 he was looking round they stopped. Where was he ? 
 and who was the new-comer ? As softly as possible 
 he took a survey of his position, and discovered that 
 the seat on which he sat leaned against a summer- 
 house in the next garden. The building was old and 
 covered with climbing plants, and as he gazed stupidly 
 at it he caught a glint of colour amongst the twisted 
 stems. Half unconsciously he leaned forward and 
 noticed a long crack half hidden with the foliage, 
 and through the crack, of all persons in the world, 
 Sallie Wood ! He drew a long breath ; it seemed as 
 if Providence were throwing him in this girl's way, 
 unless indeed she had seen him come out and was — 
 but he dismissed the unworthy thought. Then he 
 recollected that as Sallie's house was round the 
 corner from the Manse she must have a garden 
 behind that touched the one he was in, and that she 
 was therefore in her own grounds. Had she seen 
 him ? Should he speak to her ? Could he keep suffi- 
 cient restraint upon himself if she turned pathetic — 
 but before he could settle these points he heard a 
 sound like a sob, and was compelled to have a second 
 peep. Yes, it was she. She wore a dainty dress of 
 some light material that suited her admirably, and he 
 felt a thrill of admiration as he glanced her over from 
 head to foot. But what was this ? She was crying, 
 and crying with her face uncovered, in evident 
 unconsciousness of any other presence. The sight 
 of her made his heart melt. He would speak to her at 
 any cost and get to the bottom of these things. But 
 at that moment there were other footsteps, and as he 
 
 M. Z
 
 338 THE MINDER 
 
 peeped again through the handy crack, lo ! John 
 Ledger came round the curve of the box-edged path 
 and approached the rickety summer-house. Max 
 could not have moved at that moment if his Hfe had 
 depended upon it. Sallie did not rise, did not even 
 raise her head as her lover came up, and when he 
 seated himself on the edge of the seat opposite to her 
 she still continued to look ruefully at her pretty shoe. 
 With a strange, fascinating feeling, as though conscious 
 that this was no chance meeting, Max watched the 
 couple from his questionable vantage point. 
 
 "John" — and Sallie, whose voice sounded inex- 
 pressibly tender to the susceptible watcher, raised 
 her eyes with an expression in them that was new 
 to Max — "John, will you be absolutely frank with 
 me if I am with you ? I never have been, alas ! but 
 I will be now." 
 
 John raised his eyes in weary surprise and simply 
 nodded. 
 
 " John, do you really love Mary Wheeler ? " 
 
 Max in his concealment gasped, and John sprang 
 as if stung to his feet. 
 
 " Don't think I'm going to scold you, John dear, 
 or reproach you — I've lost a love I never knew how 
 to value — but I do want to know. Do you, John ? " 
 
 And her tone was so humble and pleading that 
 Max felt he could have hugged her. 
 
 " Yes, Sallie ! — God forgive me ! " 
 
 There was another pause ; some deep, strong 
 emotion was shaking Sallie' s very soul. At last, how- 
 ever, she raised her tear-dimmed eyes and asked — 
 
 "With all your heart and mind and soul and 
 strength, John?" 
 
 John, staring as if he saw an apparition, mechani- 
 cally nodded. ' 
 
 " And do you feel that — that the world would be a 
 blank and a wilderness if she were not in it ? "
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 339 
 
 " Yes, but " 
 
 Sallie had risen and gone close to her lover ; she 
 now raised her hand and checked his words. 
 
 " And do you feel mean and cheap in her presence, 
 and common, as though she belonged to some superior 
 kind of beings and you were unworthy to speak to 
 her?" 
 
 John had evidently no more amazement left in 
 him, and simply nodded stupidly again. 
 
 " And do you feel that if you could serve her, be 
 her slave, do anything that would give her pleasure, 
 that that would be the greatest joy on earth, even 
 though she never looked at you ? " 
 
 Once more, dazed and almost breathlessly, John 
 said " Yes." 
 
 She paused a long time now, with her head down ; 
 when she raised it, her face was flushed and red and 
 her eyes gleamed with tears. 
 
 " Then go to her, John dear, and be happy ! and 
 may the good Lord bless j^ou both." 
 
 Max, with dimmed eyes, stared at the crack, and 
 felt he wanted to jump over the wall and kiss her, 
 and John, overwhelmed by this most amazing and 
 unexpected denouement, simply fell back in his seat 
 and sobbed. 
 
 Max could not, of course, attempt to leave at this point 
 lest the others should find they had been overheard, 
 but as he was struggling with a conscience that was 
 calling him hard names for eavesdropping he heard 
 a soft sound, and looking through his spy-hole he 
 saw Sallie on her knees and her arms round her 
 lover. 
 
 "I didn't know, John! I didn't!" she cried piteously. 
 " I cannot bear it, when I think how deceitful and 
 mean and cruel I have been, but I didn't know ! " 
 
 "Didn't know what?" asked John, almost as 
 much moved as she was.
 
 340 THE MINDER 
 
 " I didn't know what it meant to be — to be — to be 
 in love." 
 
 "In love?" 
 
 " Yes, in love ! Oh, John, I'm in love ! and if you 
 have suffered one thousandth part what I suffer now 
 I'm sorry, oh, so sorry ! " 
 
 " It cannot be, Sallie ; it must not " 
 
 " It can ! It must ! I'll go to her myself. I'll beg 
 her on my knees to love you. You are worthy of 
 her, and I'm a poor, wicked, selfish girl." 
 
 But for the boards between them Max would have 
 been picking her up and kissing her, and as it was he 
 made sounds which if the others had been less 
 absorbed they must have heard. He felt also a 
 strong anger arising within him against the cold- 
 hearted John. 
 
 ** I tried to be true, Sallie," began John again, but 
 she interrupted him. 
 
 " True ! you were true ! Why, John, you loved me 
 once — really loved me ! But, oh, I never loved you ! 
 and now I am justly punished." 
 
 And Max began to think that John had some 
 bowels after all as he answered — 
 
 ** You shall not be punished, dear. I'll conquer my 
 wicked passion. I'll love you, Sallie. I always should 
 have loved you if you had been like this ; but now we'll 
 be married, dear. I '11 conquer it and you will help me ! " 
 
 " Conquer it! " and she was on her feet in indigna- 
 tion. " You cannot conquer it if it is real ! You 
 must not ! It is a holy thing ! It is irresistible ! Oh, 
 John, how can you ? " 
 
 *' How have you found all this out ? " asked John 
 suddenly, after a long silence, and he was in his 
 heart secretly suspecting that even this might only 
 be one of her wiles. 
 
 " Found it out ? Love ! Love has taught me ! I 
 love, myself, at last, and now I know. Oh ! how could
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 341 
 
 I have been so cruel to you, John ? for you really 
 loved me once ; now didn't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sallie, I did, and " 
 
 " No ! No ! I love another ! He will never look at 
 me ! He is high above me, and I am but dirt under 
 his feet. I shall never be with him, never be his, but 
 oh ! to love is enough ; it is bliss ! it is heaven itself, 
 only — only it is so painful," and with this inconsistent 
 little confession she hid her face in her hands and 
 the tears dropped through her fingers to the ground. 
 *' I cannot tell you who it is, John. I will never — 
 never — Oh yes, I will. I must tell just one person 
 in the world ! It is — it is your — Oh no ! what am I 
 saying ? I dare not ! I dare not ! " 
 
 But John saw it, and Max, sinking through the 
 floor with fright and wonder and pity, and he knew 
 not what besides, gave a sudden gasp and then 
 sprang back and was discovered. He wanted to 
 flee, but his feet refused to do their office, and he 
 could not have moved whatever had depended upon 
 it. John came hastily to the other side of the boards 
 and gasped " Max ! " and Sallie, with a frightened, 
 woeful little scream, that remained with Max for 
 many a day, fled, and when at last he started after 
 her, shouting apologies and explanations, she rushed 
 indoors and fled to her room. Max was so consumed 
 with shame and distress and pity for the poor girl 
 that he could not be pacified, but John held him 
 back and quieted him and made him sit down and 
 talk. 
 
 The two friends parted presently, John in a state 
 of mind he would have found it impossible to 
 describe, and Max consumed with one great resolve 
 to see Sallie and apologise and propose to her. On 
 that point he was immovable ; he called twice at 
 her house and pressed to be allowed to speak to 
 Sallie, but was refused. He came back to Bramwell
 
 342 THE MINDER 
 
 on Monday by an early train, more intent on his 
 purpose than ever, only to discover that Sallie had 
 gone to London and would not be back for an 
 indefinit'e period. Then he would go to London 
 after her ! Poor dear girl, she must be sick with 
 shame ! Was there ever so cowardly a thing done 
 to a woman since the world began ? Why, if it were 
 only as an atonement or reparation for the wrong he 
 must win her, but besides, she was pretty and sweet — 
 and John ! why John hadn't loved her was at that 
 moment incomprehensible to him. But neither Aunt 
 Pizer nor anybody else could give him any address 
 where he would be likely to find the girl he thought 
 he was now in love with. He stayed all night arguing 
 with John, who was even now almost as severe upon 
 himself as he had ever been, and on Tuesday morning 
 there came a tender, plaintive letter from Sallie to 
 her old lover, urging him to go to Mary Wheeler 
 and be happy, and threatening that if he hesitated or 
 tortured himself any more she would write to Rose 
 Cottage herself. By the afternoon post of the same 
 day came a letter to Max from the same source. A 
 shy, timid, touchingly humble message it was, 
 appealing piteously to him to keep her secret and 
 never attempt to get speech with her. Max cried 
 like a great girl as he read it, and vowed that if he 
 had to wait until he was fifty he would have her, and 
 her only. It took some time to get John entirely 
 convinced that his course was now clear, but when 
 Sallie wrote a second time to say that she was so 
 grieved at the trouble she had wilfully given him and 
 all the deceptions she had practised upon him that 
 she had written to Mary Wheeler asking her forgive- 
 ness, John felt that something must be done now, 
 and so he returned to Mary and his work. Work, 
 the great healer, soon brought back the natural 
 buoyancy of his mind, and although Mary held back
 
 HOW SALLIE FOUND HER HEART 343 
 
 for a time, she let him see how proud she was of the 
 struggle he had made with his conscience, and soon 
 made him a happy man. Wilky Drax got himself 
 into hot water by waiting upon Max when he was 
 one day in Bramwell and offering him sage and 
 characteristic advice to be aware of Sallie Wood, 
 and the friendship between the two was only pre- 
 served by Mrs. Drax's gentle intercession. Mary's 
 patent proved a little gold mine to the firm ; they 
 were soon back in the old house ; the old bank 
 became also a paying thing once more. When 
 John and Mary were married, Max, who had almost 
 forgotten his passion for Sallie in his devotion to 
 his last hobby, photography, "took" the bridal party, 
 and had a characteristic quarrel with the bridesmaid, 
 but notwithstanding these things the Bramwell 
 people stick to it that Mr. Ringley will marry Sallie 
 Wood, and the Partidge folk are just as certain he 
 will marry Betty. 
 
 Latest reports concerning him, however, state that 
 he has been announcing some very original views on 
 the celibacy of the clergy. 
 
 Sallie has become a sister of the people. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 URADBURY, AC-NEW, & CO. LI)., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE-
 
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