"No, my dear. The truth must be faced. Pressure is being applied in every direction. I signed a note, making myself security for the building of the Mission-room. And here are other threats of suits. I already have judgments against me, that they may try to satisfy at any moment. Why, even our furniture may be seized! And this man declares that he will make me bankrupt. It's a horrible position--bad enough for any man, fatal for a clergyman. We've staved off the crash for about as long as we can.--And I'm tired of it all!" He flung the account-book from him, and, brushing his gray hair from his forehead in an agitated fashion, started up. His brow was moist, and his hand trembled. "Only a matter of a thousand dollars, John?" cried Mrs. Swinton, after another puff from her cigarette. Then, glancing at the clock, she added: "What a time they are getting the carriage ready! We shall be late. Netty, go and see why they are so long." Netty slipped away. "Mary, you must be late for once," cried the disturbed husband, striding over to her. "We must talk this matter out." She smiled up at him bewitchingly, and he melted, for he adored her still. "Father will have to pay the money," she said, rising lazily and facing him--as tall as he, and wonderfully graceful. She put her hand upon his shoulder. "Yes, John, I'll go to father once more. It's really shameful! He absolutely promised you a thousand dollars for that Mission Hall, and then afterward refused to pay it." "Yes, of course, he did. That was why I became responsible. But you know what his promises are." "His promises should be kept like those of other men. It is wicked to give money with one hand, and then take it away with the other. He allowed you to compromise yourself in the expectation of this unusual lavishness on his part; and now he repudiates the whole thing, like the miser that he is." "Hush, darling! He is a very old man." "Oh, yes, it's all very well for you to find excuses for him. You would find excuses for Satan himself, John. You are far too lenient. Just think what father would say, if you were to be made bankrupt. Can't you hear his delighted, malevolent chuckles? Oh, it is too terrible, too outrageous! You know what everyone would say--that you had been speculating, or gambling, just because you dabbled a little in mines a few years ago." "A thousand dollars would only delay the crash. We owe at least ten times as much as that," groaned the unhappy man, sinking into the chair his wife had just vacated. He rested his elbows on his knees, and his throbbing head in his hands. "They'll have to find another rector for St. Botolph's. I've tried hard to satisfy everybody. I've begged and worked. We've had bazaars, concerts, collections, everything. But people give less and less, and they want more and more. The poor cry louder and louder."