Many weeks had passed since Carlisle had decided to oust this religious
fellow definitely from her thoughts, as belonging so clearly to that
past upon which she had now turned a victorious back. And in these
expulsive processes, she had found herself greatly assisted by the young
man's confession of hypocrisy, as she regarded it, on this very subject
of giving away money. Perhaps this had seemed a frail club once; she
herself had hardly put much strength in it in the beginning; but she had
been resolute, and time had strengthened her convincingly, according to
her need. For if the man was a whited sepulchre, full of dead men's
bones within, then clearly his opinions of people and their families
were not of the slightest importance to anybody, so what was the good of
anybody's thinking of them?...

Not to let the conversation lag, she had remarked, with no pause at all:

"It's strange our nearly running over him, just then and there. That old
shack is the Dabney House, and you know it's he who got up the
Settlement idea."

"No, I didn't know it," said Canning, slowing down to take a corner
which led on to civilization. "Still," he added, "I shan't let that stay
my generosity. I resolved three blocks back to subscribe five
hundred--just to throw you in the shade--and I will not be deterred."

Having been duly applauded for his prodigality, he inquired: "How much,
by the way, is the good doctor donating out of his forty thousand?"

"Not a cent!" said Carlisle, who had questioned Hen on this very point.