onderful,
beautiful wife always dragged him out of difficulties. He had ceased to
do more than bless and thank her. He was glad of the respite, and had
already begun to build castles in the air, and formulate a wonderful
scheme for alleviating distress by advancing urgently needed money, to be
refunded to him out of the proceeds of bazaars and concerts and public
subscriptions later on.

The poor, too, seemed to have discovered that the rector was paying away
money, and the most miserable, tattered, whining specimens of humanity
rang his door-bell. They had piteous tales to tell of children dying for
want of proper nourishment, of wives lying unburied for lack of funds to
pay the undertaker.

* * * * *

Dick returned, ignorant of his danger of arrest, and almost at the moment
when his mother had accomplished her second forgery.

"Well, mother what luck with grandfather?" he cried anxiously, as he
strode into the study. "I hear you've been up to the Hall. You are a
brick to beard the old lion as you do."

"Yes, I've been lucky this time. I've screwed out some more for all of
us--quite a large sum this time. I put forward unanswerable
arguments--the expense of your outfit--our responsibilities--our debts,
and all sorts of things, and then got your grandfather to include
everything in one check. It's for five thousand."

She dropped her eyes nervously, and heard him catch his breath.

"Five thousand!"

"Not all for you, Dick," she hastened to add, "though your debts must be
paid. There was a man here this morning to arrest you. At least, that was
what he threatened; but they don't do such things, do they?"

"Arrest me?"

"Yes. It was an awful blow to your father."

"Arrest!" he groaned. "I feared it. But you've got five thousand. It'll
save us all!"

"The check isn't cashed yet. Here it is."

He seized the little slip eagerly, his eyes glistening. It was his
respite, and might mean the end of all their troubles.

"I really must pay all my smaller debts, mother," said Dick, as he looked
down at the forged check. "You don't know what a mean hound I've felt in
not being able to pay the smaller tradesmen, for they are more decent
than the bigger people. Five thousand! Only think of it. What a brick the
old man is, after all."

"How much do your debts amount to, Dick?" asked Mrs. Swinton, in some
trepidation.

"I hardly know; but the ones which must be paid before I