Being possessed of a bad memory, it had been her misfortune to receive several subscriptions to the District Visitors' Fund, of which she had forgotten to make any entry, and which she had paid away in a manner of which she was totally incapable of giving any account. In moments of generosity, too, she had bestowed the greater portion of the Coal Fund on unfortunate persons who were not of her parish, nor, it was to be feared, of any creed either. And in moments still more generous, the funds of the Clothing Club she had applied to the purchase of books for her Sunday School Library. Therefore, when the quarter ended and a request was made to examine her accounts and rectify them, she was in a position which was not exactly pleasant. Now there happened to be at St. Giles's a curate who was a Low Churchman. Miss Maynard had a tendency to "High;" and between these two there was no good feeling lost. It was this curate who was causing all the trouble. He had not only made some uncomfortable remarks, but he had gone so far as to suggest that Miss Maynard should resign her office, and on this particular morning he had made an appointment to call in order that, as he said, some decision might be arrived at. Major Clifford, I regret to say, was no churchgoer. In addition to which he had an unreasonable objection to what he called "parsons," and was wont to boast that he knew none of them, except the vicar, who was a sociable gentleman of a somewhat older school, even by sight. However, when he heard that the Rev. Philip Spooner was calling, and what was the purport of his intended visit, he announced his intention to favour the reverend gentleman with a personal interview, and to present him with a piece of his mind. Hence the strong words which head this chapter. Miss Maynard was not at all unwilling that he should see the Rev. Spooner, but she was exceedingly anxious that he should not wait for him as he would for a deadly enemy. "Uncle, promise me that you will be calm and gentle." "Calm and gentle!" cried the Major, banging his fist upon the table. "Calm and gentle! Do you mean to say, miss, that I would harm a fly!" "But I am afraid, uncle, that Mr. Spooner will not understand you so well as I do." "Then," said the Major, "if the man doesn't understand me, he must be a fool!" In which Miss Maynard begged to differ, so put her hands upon his shoulders, which was a favourite trick of hers, and said: "Uncle, you do love me, don't you? And I am sure you wouldn't hurt my feelings. You will be kind to Mr. Spooner for my sake, won't you?" CHAPTER II HIS NIECE'S WOOING