He did not say this priggishly, although to an ordinary man of the world such a way of regarding wealth would seem priggish. Nine people out of ten would have considered the speech as one made for effect, but Alice was the tenth and knew the absolutely impersonal way in which her lover looked at the money. With joyful tears Dame Trevel showered blessings on the young couple when they left her house, and was a happy woman for the rest of the day. Even the prospect of Rose's behaviour rousing Job's jealousy to the extent of leading to serious trouble ceased to cause her anxiety for the moment. Angels had come and left their gifts behind them. The old woman resolved to go to the vicarage and confess with penitent tears that she had been wrong to doubt the efficacy of prayer. "Do you really regard yourself as Christ's steward?" asked Alice, when the two were on their way to Julian's lodgings, more from curiosity than because she doubted. "Yes. I thought you knew me well enough to believe so, darling. Of course when you are my wife I shall use the money to make us both comfortable, and we shall have even the luxuries of life. But we must share our good fortune with less fortunate people." "Why not sell all we have and give it to the poor?" "I suppose there comes a stage when one does that," mused Montrose, more to himself than to the girl. "But I have not yet reached that point. I know what poverty is in its most sordid aspect, and I don't wish to undergo the experience again. The most I can do is to share----" he paused, then went on in a doubtful manner: "I expect the Blessed One knew that the young man who had great possessions, to whom He said that, was a miser. He was perfect in all ways, but he loved money." "The Bible doesn't say so," insisted Alice quickly. "I am reading between the lines, dear. And if Christ gives any one wealth to administer as a steward, what would be the use of the steward nullifying his office by getting rid at one sweep of what he has to administer? It's a hard saying in any case, Alice. I must ask Eberstein what he thinks about the matter. Besides, my dear----" he hesitated and closed his lips. "Well?" asked the girl, curiously. "Nothing," answered Douglas, as Alice had answered on a previous occasion, but there was a puzzled and rather pained look in his eyes as he spoke the word. The car was already standing at the door of Julian's lodgings and Julian himself was already in the vehicle. While Montrose bundled in beside him, Alice stared at the artist and laughed at his healthy looks, for he seemed to have entirely recovered from his experience on the moors. "What a fraud you are, Julian, talking about your heart being weak," she said in a jesting manner. "You look big and strong and healthy. Your eyes are bright, your colour is ruddy and you are the picture of a Samson."