May, from her couch in her dressing-room heard the rector's cheery voice in the hall below asking after her. "That's Mr. Curzon, Lancaster; run and ask him to come up and see me for a moment," she said to her maid. In another moment he entered, followed by her mother. "Oh, my darling, you are not ill? Have you been burned and not told me of it?" she gasped in terror. "Oh no, mother," said May, trying to smile; "but it's just because I'm not burned, nor scared, nor horrible to look at, that I want Mr. Curzon. I want--I want----" And then May's high courage gave way, and she burst into tears. "Let us pray," said the rector, quietly. And he and May's mother knelt down by the side of May's couch together. When he rose up from his knees May's tears had ceased. CHAPTER VII. A MOMENTOUS DECISION. The rector walked home through the starlight night with a thankful heart. It was possibly his sanguine temperament, backed by his strong faith in the Christ Who must reign until He had brought all to His Feet, that gave him such large success in his work; and against the background of this day two special subjects for thanksgiving stood out in strong relief: first, that he had received positive proof that he possessed the confidence of the majority of his parishioners; and secondly, that an accident--a deliverance from what might have been a horrible death--had given him an insight into the deeper side of May Webster's character. That she had this deeper side he had been fully assured, but hitherto he had been powerless to touch it. To-night, however, she had appealed to him to give expression to the gratitude which she felt to God. For a moment the spiritual life that was in her had touched his, and he trusted that the foundation of a deeper, truer, more lasting friendship had been laid--a friendship that might enable him, possibly, to give May Webster a helping hand on her road to Heaven. Mr. Curzon was not one of those who believe that a clergyman's mission is fulfilled by looking after the poor who are committed to his care. He had seen enough of society to realize both its fascination and its special temptations; and the well-to-do members of his flock were as frequently included in his prayers as the poor, the afflicted, the sick, or the unhappy. It was of May and her needs that his heart was full as he turned from the drive into the road, but as he did so he stumbled against a man's figure propped against the gate-post. The man lurched heavily forward, and would have fallen had not Mr. Curzon caught him in his arms, peering at the same time into his face to see who it might be. "Tom! Tom Burney! Poor lad," he exclaimed, with a heavy sigh, for the mere touch of the inert body showed that Tom was not overcome by illness but by drink. "Tom!" said the rector, giving him a slight shake of the shoulders, "rouse yourself, and get home to bed. To-morrow we will talk this over, but you are in no fit state to listen to-night."