nto conservatory by lower door._ LUCAS
_casually follows her._

_Matt._ And in order to settle once and for all this vexed question of
free will and moral responsibility, I'll bet you, Harry, a simple
fiver, and I'll bet you Dolly, a new Parisian hat, and half a dozen
pairs of gloves that you won't live up to your good resolutions, and
that on next New Year's Day you'll neither of you be one ha'penny the
better for all the wise counsels Mr. Pilcher gave you last night.

_Harry._ A fiver! Done!

_Dolly._ I'll take you, too! In fact, I'll double it; two new Parisian
hats, and a dozen pairs of gloves!

_Matt._ Done, my dear!

_Pilcher._ I hope I sha'n't be accused of talking shop if I venture to
recall that betting was one of the bad habits I especially warned my
congregation against, last night!

_Harry._ By Jove, yes--I'd forgotten all about that! Of course, if you
wish us to cry off----

_Pilcher._ Well, not exactly. I might perhaps suggest an alternative
plan which was tried with great success in my late parish----

_Dolly._ What was that?

_Pilcher._ A very capital good fellow--an auctioneer and land surveyor,
my churchwarden in fact, by name Jobling--found that in spite of
constant good resolutions, certain small vices were gradually creeping
upon him. There was an occasional outburst of temper to his clerks, an
occasional half glass too much; and on one lamentable market day, he
actually discovered himself using bad language to Mrs. Jobling----

_Dolly._ [_Looking at_ HARRY.] Oh! Ah!

_Matt._ Jobling's gray matter can't have been in good working order.

_Pilcher._ We corrected that! We got his gray matter under control.

_Dolly._ How?

_Pilcher._ My Christmas Blanket Club happened to be on the road to
bankruptcy. By the way, our Blanket Club here is in low water. Well, I
gave Jobling a small box with a hole at the top sufficiently large to
admit half a crown. And I suggested that whenever he was betrayed into
one of these little slips, he should fine himself for the benefit of my
Blanket Club----

_Harry._ Good business! Dolly, where's that collecting-box they sent us
from the Hospital for Incurables?

_Dolly._ In the cupboard in the next room.

_Harry._ Right-o! No time like the present! [_Exit._]

_Matt._ And how did you get out of this dilemma?

_Pilcher._ Dilemma?

_Matt._ Did your Blanket Club remain in bankruptcy, or what must have
been an even more distressing alternative t