in a spell of resentment. Why? Oh, human nature, you know! and
human nature explains a lot of things which even story-writers have to
give up. Of course, people _did_ say that Father Ilwin was ungracious
and unappreciative; yet, as I write, much as I like Father Tom, I have
a tear in my eye for the lonely man who knew well that the only
obstacle to his success was the _one_ that people never _could_ see,
and that the _obstacle himself_ was never _likely_ to see.

But let us go on. Of all the things in this world that Father Tom
believed in, it was that his "parish rights" were first and foremost.
So he never touched foot in his neighbor's parish, except to pay him a
friendly visit, or to go to his righteous confession. He visited no
homes out of his territory, though he had baptized pretty nearly every
little curly-headed fairy in each. They were his no longer and that
was enough. He wanted no visitor in his limits either, except on the
same terms. So no one in Father Tom's parish had helped much in
building the church across the river. The people understood.

It had never occurred to Father Tom that his own purse--not _too_
large, but large enough--might stand a neighborly assessment. No, he
had "built his church by hard scraping, and that is how churches
should be built." Now, do not get a bad opinion of Father Tom on this
account. He thought he was right, and perhaps he was. It is not for me
to criticize Father Tom, whom every poor person in the town loved as a
father; only I did feel sorry that poor Father Ilwin grew so thin and
worn, and that his building work was stopped, and people did not seem
to sympathize with him, at all, at all. Over in his parish there were
open murmurs that "the people had built one church and should not be
asked now to build another"; or "what was good enough for Father Tom
was good enough for anyone"; or "the Bishop should have consulted _us_
before he sent this young priest into Father Tom's parish." In the
other part of the town, however, everything was quiet enough, and none
would think of offending his pastor by showing any interest in Father
Ilwin, financially or otherwise. Father Ilwin said nothing; but do you
wonder that one day when a generous gift was announced from "the Rev.
Thomas Connolly, our respected fellow citizen," to help in the
erection of a Soldier's Monument for the town, Father Ilwin read it
and went back into his room, where, on the table, were laid out the
plans