themselves from him more
and more of late. He had attributed it to their envy or their folly. He
suddenly thought of old Dr. Templeton. He had always ignored that old
man as a sort of crack-brained creature who had not been able to keep up
with the world, and had been left stranded, doing the work that properly
belonged to the unsuccessful. Curiously enough, he was the one to whom
the unhappy man now turned. Besides, he was a friend of Mrs. Lancaster.

A half-hour later the Rev. Mr. Rimmon was in Dr. Templeton's simple
study, and was finding a singular sense of relief in pouring out his
troubles to the old clergyman. He told him something of his unhappy
situation--not all, it is true, but enough to enable the other to see
how grave it was, as much from what he inferred as from what Rimmon
explained. He even began to hope again. If the Doctor would undertake to
straighten out the complications he might yet pull through. To his
dismay, this phase of the matter did not appear to present itself to the
old man's mind. It was the sin that he had committed that had
touched him.

"Let us carry it where only we can find relief;" he said. "Let us take
it to the Throne of Grace, where we can lay all our burdens"; and before
Rimmon knew it, he was on his knees, praying for him as if he had been a
very outcast.

When the Rev. Mr. Rimmon came out of the shabby little study, though he
had not gotten the relief he had sought, he, somehow, felt a little
comforted, while at the same time he felt humble. He had one of those
brief intervals of feeling that, perhaps, there was, after all,
something that that old man had found which he had missed, and he
determined to find it. But Mr. Rimmon had wandered far out of the way.
He had had a glimpse of the pearl, but the price was great, and he had
not been able to pay it all.

* * * * *

Wickersham discounted the note; but the amount was only a bagatelle to
him: a bucket-shop had swallowed it within an hour. He had lost his
instinct. It was only the love of gambling that remained.

Only one chance appeared to remain for him. He had made up with Louise
Wentworth after a fashion. He must get hold of her in some way. He might
obtain more money from her. The method he selected was a desperate one;
but he was a desperate man.

After long pondering, he sat down and wrote her a note, asking her "to
meet some friends of his, a Count and Countess Torelli, at supper"