sked for his bill; but, if it was quite
convenient, he would be glad to have the amount by the end of the week,
as he had a heavy payment to make the following Monday. Mr. Drake handed
the note to his daughter, rose hastily, and left the room. Dorothy threw
it down half-read, and followed him. He was opening the door, his hat in
his hand.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, father dear?" she said. "Wait a
moment and I'll go with you."

"My child, there is not a moment to lose!" he replied excitedly.

"I did not read all the letter," she returned; "but I think he does not
want the money till the end of the week."

"And what better shall we be then?" he rejoined, almost angrily. "The
man looks to me, and where will he find himself on Monday? Let us be as
honest at least as we can."

"But we may be able to borrow it--or--who knows what might happen?"

"There it is, my dear! Who knows what? We can be sure of nothing in this
world."

"And what in the next, father?"

The minister was silent. If God was anywhere, he was here as much as
there! That was not the matter in hand, however. He owed the money, and
was bound to let the man know that he could not pay it by the end of the
week. Without another word to Dorothy, he walked from the house, and,
like a man afraid of cowardice, went straight at the object of his
dismay. He was out of the lane and well into Pine street before he
thought to put on his hat.

From afar he saw the butcher, standing in front of his shop--a tall,
thin man in blue. His steel glittered by his side, and a red nightcap
hung its tassel among the curls of his gray hair. He was discussing,
over a small joint of mutton, some point of economic interest with a
country customer in a check-shawl. To the minister's annoyance the woman
was one of his late congregation, and he would gladly have passed the
shop, had he had the courage. When he came near, the butcher turned from
the woman, and said, taking his nightcap by the tassel in rudimentary
obeisance.

"At your service, sir."

His courtesy added to Mr. Drake's confusion: it was plain the man
imagined he had brought him his money! Times were indeed changed since
his wife used to drive out in her brougham to pay the bills! Was this
what a man had for working in the vineyard the better part of a
lifetime? The property he did not heed. That had been the portion of the
messengers of heaven from the first. But the shame!--what was he to do
with tha