Bella’s eyes were rapturously devouring the room. His room. It looked like the room of a gentleman and a student. Those books, piled row above row in the shabby old bookcase, were his, of course. There was his open desk upon the table. His hat and cane were on a side table. There was no disorder, nothing squalid or unsightly. ‘No, I have not come from Mary Smithers,’ said Bella. ‘I want to enlist your sympathy for poor Mrs. Piper.’ And then Bella explained the sad condition into which Mrs. Piper had fallen, how in the hour of sickness her soul hankered after the strong meat of the Baptist chapel where she had worshipped in her youth, and how she would assuredly seek for comfort from Mr. Mowler, unless the Church of England came to her rescue. ‘I should have asked Mr. Dulcimer to see her’, said Bella, ‘only, dear and good as he is, I do not think he is earnest enough to give hope and comfort to a person in her situation. If you would be so kind as to call upon her.’ ‘I will go immediately.’ ‘Oh, how good you are!’ cried Bella, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. Mr. Culverhouse reddened. That little gush of flattery reminded him uncomfortably of his conversation with Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘There is no goodness in a clergyman trying to do his duty, any more than in a baker carrying round his loaves,’ he said, coolly. He put on his overcoat, and took up his hat and cane, and he and Bella went out together. That cool tone of his wounded her keenly. ‘Are you still with Miss Harefield?’ he said, at the garden gate. Bella gave him an icy look. The mention of that name was a second stab. ‘No, I have left her some time.’ Cyril saw the look, and perceived the unfriendliness in the tone. He put down both to a wrong cause. His face was full of care as he walked to the Park. ‘Mine own familiar friend,’ he said to himself, sadly. Bella found Mrs. Piper in better spirits on the following day. ‘Oh, my dear, Mr. Culverhouse is a saint!’ she exclaimed, when Bella had seated herself by the invalid’s sofa. ‘He has given me great comfort. He has not flattered me, you know, my dear. He does not deny that I have misused my advantages. I have not done all that I might for my fellow-creatures. I have taken too much thought of the letter, and not followed the spirit. Oh, he is a good man.’ ‘Is he not?’ cried Bella, delighted at this praise. ‘I shall ask Piper to subscribe double to all his charities. We have subscribed ’andsome, but we have done it because it was in keeping with this house to have our names stand out well in the subscription lists. I should like to give Mr. Culverhouse a sum of money, unbeknown to anybody, that he might lay it out to my advantage, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal. I don’t think I shall ever worry myself about the butcher’s book any more, Bella. Sickness has opened my eyes to the vanity of such petty cares.’