"I was there last Sunday morning." "And before that, Uncle Peake?" She smiled sweetly on him. Peake was one of the worldlings who, in a religious sense, existed precariously on the fringe of the Methodist Society. He rented a pew, and he was never remiss in despatching his wife and daughter to occupy it. He imagined that his belief in the faith of his fathers was unshaken, but any reference to souls and salvation made him exceedingly restless and uncomfortable. He could not conceive himself crowned and harping in Paradise, and yet he vaguely surmised that in the last result he would arrive at that place and state, wafted thither by the prayers of his womenkind. Logical in all else, he was utterly illogical in his attitude towards the spiritual--an attitude which amounted to this: "Let a sleeping dog lie, but the animal isn't asleep and means mischief." He smiled meditatively at Mrs Lovatt's question, and turned it aside with another. "What about this organ?" "It's going to cost nine hundred pounds," continued Mrs Lovatt, "and Titus Blackhurst has arranged it all. It was built for a hall in Birmingham, but the manufacturers have somehow got it on their hands. Young Titus the organist has been over to see it, and he says it's a bargain. The affair was all arranged as quick as you please at the Trustees' meeting last Monday. Titus Blackhurst said he would give a hundred pounds if eight others would do the same within a fortnight--it must be settled at once. As Enoch said to me afterwards, it seemed, as soon as Mr Blackhurst had made his speech, that we _must_ have that organ. We really couldn't forshame to show up with the old one again at _this_ Conference--don't you remember the funny speech the President made about it at the last Conference, eleven years ago? Of course he was very polite and nice with his sarcasm, but I'm sure he meant us to take the hint. Now, would you believe, seven out of those eight subscriptions were promised by Wednesday morning! I think that was just splendid!" "Well, well!" exclaimed Peake, genuinely amazed at this proof of religious vitality. "Who are the subscribers?" "I'm one," said Enoch Lovatt, quietly, but with unconcealed pride. "And I'm another," said Mrs Lovatt. "Bless you, I should have been ashamed of myself if I hadn't responded to such an appeal. You may say what you like about Titus Blackhurst--I know there's a good many that don't like him--but he's a real good sort. I'm sure he's the best Sunday School superintendent we ever had. Then there's Mr Clayton-Vernon, and Alderman Sutton, and young Henry Mynors and--" "And Eardley Brothers--they're giving a hundred apiece," put in Lovatt, glancing at Randolph Sneyd. "I wish they'd pay their debts first," said Peake, with sudden savageness. "They're all right, I suppose?" said Sneyd, interested, and leaning over towards Peake.