f the proprieties,
and then Wilbraham Hall rang with the laughter of a joke which the next
day had become the common precious property of all the Five Towns. When
the aged rector had restored his flock to a sense of decency Mr. Emanuel
Prockter had vanished. In that laughter his career as a singer reached
an abrupt and final conclusion. The concert also came to an end. And the
collection, by which the divine always terminated these proceedings, was
the largest in the history of the Guild.

A quarter of an hour or twenty minutes later all the guests, members,
and patrons of the St. Luke's Guild had left, most of them full of kind
inquiries after Mr. Ollerenshaw, the genial host of that so remarkably
successful entertainment. The appearances and disappearances of Mr.
Ollerenshaw had been a little disturbing. First it had been announced
that he was detained in Derby, buying property. Indeed, few persons were
unaware that, except for a flying visit in the middle, of two days, to
collect his rents, James had spent a fortnight in Derby purchasing
sundry portions of Derby. Certainly Helen had not expected him. Nor had
she expected Mrs. Prockter, who two days previously had been called away
by telegram to the bedside of a sick cousin in Nottingham. Nor had she
expected Lilian Swetnam, who was indisposed. The unexpected ladies had
not arrived; but James had arrived, as disconcerting as a ghost, and
then had faded away with equal strangeness. None of the departing
audience had seen even the tassel of his cap.

Helen discovered him in his little room at the end of the hall. She was
resplendent in black and silver.

"So here you are, uncle!" said she, and kissed him. "I'm so glad you got
back in time. Can you lend me sixpence?"

"What for, lass?"

"I want to give it to the man who's taking away the chairs I had to
hire."

"What's become of that seven hundred and seventy pound odd as ye had?"

"Oh," she said, lightly, "I've spent that." She thought she might as
well have done with it, and added: "And I'm in debt--lots. But we'll
talk about that later. Sixpence, please."

He blenched. But he, too, had been expensive in the pursuit of delight.
He, too, had tiresome trifles on his mind. So he produced the sixpence,
and accepted the dissipation of nearly eight hundred pounds in less than
a month with superb silence.

Helen rang the bell. "You see, I've had all the bells put in order," she
said.

The gentleman in evening dre