So? Here was Davidina proposing to broach the subject on which till now no word had ever been uttered between them. It did not exactly surprise him; he had always believed that Davidina had a conscience; but often he had wondered if, convinced in her own mind upon the point at issue, she would trouble to tell him of it--unless spitefully to enjoy his disappointment. But there was no longer any question of disappointment now. In the fold of True Belief, Mr. Trimblerigg knew that he could not have done anything like what he had now accomplished, or have attained to such a standing or such prospects. Nevertheless--had the bait been larger--for there the door stood open waiting for him--who knows? The great fusion of the Free Churches, in a form to include True Belief, might have come earlier, and he might have remained Free Evangelical in practice and yet qualified in the letter and in the spirit for that deferred benefit which he was now denying himself. ‘I asked,’ said Davidina, ‘because I see that next Sunday you are going down to preach to your old congregation at Mount Horeb.’ ‘Yes,’ said Jonathan, ‘they’ve asked me. It’s the first time such a thing has happened, and my text is not going to be the repentant Prodigal, either. I haven’t changed. We shall just go on where we left off.’ ‘That’s why I’m asking--what you call yourself. Do you still reckon yourself a True Believer?’ ‘I reckon that what I believe is true; but I do not regard myself as a True Believer in the technical sense. I don’t think I ever was. A Relative Believer, Davidina, is what I am.’ ‘It’s a pity,’ said Davidina, ‘in a way. Uncle Phineas left me a letter of instruction--not legal; but still I take it as binding. If you had remained a True Believer till now, I was to go shares with you.’ Mr. Trimblerigg had long since, in his own mind, got the better of Uncle Phineas and his £200 a year. But now he saw his chance of getting the better of Davidina. So he said quietly: ‘I know that, he told me.’ Davidina stared. ‘What did he tell you?’ ‘He showed me the letter,’ said Jonathan. ‘And you never said anything!’ cried Davidina, astonished. ‘Well, I did say something in a way. I mentioned the letter to you once; but as you chose to say nothing about it, I left it at that.’ ‘And you trusted me?’ inquired Davidina. ‘Absolutely. But very soon after that, you see, it didn’t matter. I got turned out.’ Mr. Trimblerigg was now feeling very happy, for he saw that Davidina was right out of her bearings. But without appearing to notice this unusual phenomenon he went quietly on: ‘After all it’s a good thing as it happens. If you had to divide with me now you wouldn’t have enough for your expeditions.’