“_Good_-bye! Give my love to your mother, and to your-to Miss Chapley.” “I will.” He hurried off, and then came running back. “Oh, I forgot! About the Social Union fund. You know we've got about two hundred dollars from the theatricals, but the matter seems to have stopped there, and some of us think there'd better be some other disposition of the money. Have you any suggestion to make?” “No, none.” “Then I'll tell you. It's proposed to devote the money to beautifying the grounds around the soldiers' monument. They ought to be fenced and planted with flowers--turned into a little public garden. Everybody appreciates the interest you took in the Union, and we hoped you'd be pleased with that disposition of the money.” “It is very kind,” said Annie, with a meek submission that must have made him believe she was deeply touched. “As I'm not to be here this winter,” he continued, “we thought we had better leave the whole matter in your hands, and the money has been deposited in the bank subject to your order. It was Mrs. Munger's idea. I don't think she's ever felt just right about that evening of the dramatics, don't you know. _Good_-bye!” He ran off to escape her thanks for this proof of confidence in her taste and judgment, and he was gone beyond her protest before she emerged from her daze into a full sense of the absurdity of the situation. “Well, it's a very simple matter to let the money lie in the bank,” said Dr. Morrell, who came that evening to make his first unprofessional visit, and received with pure amusement the account of the affair, which she gave him with a strong infusion of vexation. “The way I was involved in this odious Social Union business from the first, and now have it left on my hands in the end, is maddening. Why, I can't get rid of it!” she replied. “Then, perhaps,” he comfortably suggested, “it's a sign you're not intended to get rid of it.” “What _do_ you mean?” “Why don't you go on,” he irresponsibly adventured further, “and establish a Social Union?” “Do you _mean_ it?” “What was that notion of his”--they usually spoke of the minister pronominally--“about getting the Savors going in a co-operative boarding-house at Fall River? Putney said something about it.” Annie explained, as she had heard it from him, and from the Savors since his death, the minister's scheme for a club, in which the members should contribute the labour and the provisions, and should live cheaply and wholesomely under the management of the Savors at first, and afterward should continue them in charge, or not, as they chose. “He seemed to have thought it out very carefully. But I supposed, of course, it was unpractical.”