n't take a penny of it."

"He hasn't offered a thousand yet," rejoined the organist; "and when he
does, I'll send him away with a flea in his ear."

"That's a very encouraging announcement for would-be contributors,"
Westray sneered; "they ought to come forward very strongly after that."

"Well, I must get on with some copying," the organist said dryly; and
Westray went back to the bloater.

If Mr Sharnall was thus pitiably wanting in appreciation of a
munificent offer, the rest of Cullerne made no pretence of imitating his
example. Westray was too elated to keep the good news to himself, nor
did there appear, indeed, to be any reason for making a secret of it.
So he told the foreman-mason, and Mr Janaway the clerk, and Mr Noot
the curate, and lastly Canon Parkyn the rector, whom he certainly ought
to have told the first of all. Thus, before the carillon of Saint
Sepulchre's played "New sabbath" [See Appendix at the end of the volume]
at three o'clock that afternoon, the whole town was aware that the new
Lord Blandamer had been among them, and had promised to bear the cost of
restoring the great minster of which they were all so proud--so very
much more proud when their pride entailed no sordid considerations of
personal subscription.

Canon Parkyn was ruffled. Mrs Parkyn perceived it when he came in to
dinner at one o'clock, but, being a prudent woman, she did not allude
directly to his ill-humour, though she tried to dispel it by leading the
conversation to topics which experience had shown her were soothing to
him. Among such the historic visit of Sir George Farquhar, and the
deference which he had paid to the Rector's suggestions, occupied a
leading position: but the mention of the great architect's name, was a
signal for a fresh exhibition of vexation on her husband's part.

"I wish," he said, "that Sir George would pay a little more personal
attention to the work at the minster. His representative, this Mr--
er--er--this Mr Westray, besides being, I fear, very inexperienced and
deficient in architectural knowledge, is a most conceited young man, and
constantly putting himself forward in an unbecoming way. He came to me
this morning with an exceedingly strange communication--a letter from
Lord Blandamer."

Mrs Parkyn laid down her knife and fork.

"A letter from Lord Blandamer?" she said in unconcealed amazement--"a
letter from Lord Blandamer to Mr Westray!"

"Yes," the Rector went on, losing some o