Sunday, the gospel is preached. If this be true, here again is a sad
wrong: what can those people think of religion so represented?"

"I am a sinful man," exclaimed the pastor. "That Barwood is one of the
deacons. He is the owner of the chapel as well as the cottages. I ought
to have spoken to him years ago.--But," he cried, starting to his feet,
"the property is for sale! I saw it in the paper this very morning!
Thank God!"--He caught up his hat.--"I shall have no choice but buy the
chapel too," he added, with a queer, humorous smile; "--it is part of
the property.--Come with me, my dear sir. We must see to it directly.
You will speak: I would rather not appear in the affair until the
property is my own; but I will buy those houses, please God, and make
them such as His poor sons and daughters may live in without fear or
shame."

The curate was not one to give a cold bath to enthusiasm. They went out
together, got all needful information, and within a month the
title-deeds were in Mr. Drake's possession.

When the rumor reached the members of his late congregation that he had
come in for a large property, many called to congratulate him, and such
congratulations are pretty sure to be sincere. But he was both annoyed
and amused when--it was in the morning during business hours--Dorothy
came and told him, not without some show of disgust, that a deputation
from the church in Cow-lane was below.

"We've taken the liberty of calling, in the name of the church, to
congratulate you, Mr. Drake," said their leader, rising with the rest as
the minister entered the dining-room.