Chapter V

That evening Dr. Lavendar came home. Of course all the real Old Chester was on hand to welcome him.

When the stage came creaking up to the tavern steps, the old white head was bare, and the broad-brimmed shabby felt hat was waving tremulously in the air.

"Here I am," said Dr. Lavendar, clambering down stiffly from the box-seat. "What mischief have you all been up to?"

There was much laughing and hand-shaking, and Dr. Lavendar, blinking very hard, and flourishing his red silk pocket-handkerchief, clapped Mr. Spangler on the shoulder.

"Didn't I tell you about 'em? Didn't I tell you they were the best people going? But we mustn't let 'em know it; makes 'em vain," said Dr. Lavendar, with great show of secrecy. "And look here, Sam Wright! You fellows may congratulate yourselves. Spangler here has had a fine business offer made him, haven't you, Mr. Spangler? and it's just your luck that you got him to supply for you before he left this part of the country. A little later he wouldn't have looked at Old Chester. Hey, Spangler?"

"Oh, that's settled," Mr. Spangler said. "I declined--"

"Oh," said Dr. Lavendar, "have you? Well, I'm sorry for 'em."

And Augustus Spangler smiled as heartily as anybody. He had a letter crushed up in his hand; he had read it walking down from the post-office to the tavern, and now he was ready to say that Old Chester was the finest place in the world. He could hardly wait to get Dr. Lavendar to himself in the rectory before telling him his great news and giving him a little three-cornered note from Ellen Baily which had been enclosed in his own letter.

"Well, well, _well_," said Dr. Lavendar.

He had put on a strange dressing-gown of flowered cashmere and his worsted-work slippers, and made room for his shaggy old Danny in his leather chair, and lighted his pipe. "Now tell us the news!" he said. And was all ready to hear about the Sunday-school teachers, and the choir, and Sam Wright's Protestantism, and many other important things. But not at all:--

"_I'm engaged to be married._"

"Well, well, well," said Dr. Lavendar, blinking and chuckling with pleasure; then he read Ellen's little note. "I had to tell you myself," Ellen wrote him, "because I am so happy." And then there were a dozen lines in which her heart overflowed to this old friend. "Dear child, dear child," he murmured to himself. To no one but Dr. Lavendar--queer, grizzled, wrinkled old Dr. Lavendar, with never a romance or a love-affair that anybody had ever heard of--could Miss Ellen have showed her heart. Even Mr. Spangler did not know that heart as Dr. Lavendar did when he finished Ellen's little letter.--And Dr. Lavendar didn't tell. "I am so happy," said Miss Ellen. Dr. Lavendar may have looked at Mr. Spangler and wondered at the happiness. But, after all, wonder, on somebody's part, is a feature of every engagement. And if the wonder is caused only by the man's coat, and not by his character, why be distressed about it? Mr. Spangler was an honest man; if his mind was narrow, it was at least sincere; if his heart was timid, it was very kind; if his nature was lazy, it was clean and harmless. So why shouldn't Ellen Baily love him? And why shouldn't Dr. Lavendar bubble over with happiness in Ellen's happiness?

"She's the best girl in the world," he told Mr. Spangler. "I congratulate you. She's a good child--a good child."

Mr. Spangler agreed, in a somewhat solemn manner.

"But David--how about David?"

"My house shall always be open to Mrs. Spangler's relatives," said Mr. Spangler, with Christian pride.

"You are a good fellow, Spangler," Dr. Lavendar said; and listened, chuckling, to Mr. Spangler's awkward and correct expressions of bliss. For indeed he was very happy, and talked about Miss Ellen's virtues (which so eminently qualified her to become his wife), as fatuously as any lover could.

"Hi, you, Danny," said Dr. Lavendar, after half an hour of it, "stop growling."

"There's somebody at the door," said Augustus Spangler, and went into the entry to see who it was. He came back with a letter, which he read, standing by the table; then he sat down and looked white. Dr. Lavendar, joyously, was singing to himself:

"'Ten-cent Jimmy and his minions
Cannot down the Woolly Horse.'

"Spangler, we must drink to your very good health and prospects. Let's have Mary bring the glasses."

"I fear," said Mr. Spangler--he stopped, his voice unsteady. "I regret--"

"Hullo!" said Dr. Lavendar, looking at him over his spectacles; "what's wrong?"

"I'm extremely sorry to say," said poor Mr. Spangler, "that--it can't be."

"A good glass of wine," said Dr. Lavendar, "never hurt--"

"I refer," said Mr. Spangler, sighing, "to my relations with Miss Ellen Baily."

Dr. Lavendar looked at him blankly.

"I have just received a letter," the poor man went on, "in which she informs me that it can never be." His lip trembled, but he held himself very straight and placed the letter in his breast-pocket with dignity.

"Spangler, what are you talking about?"

"It appears," said Mr. Spangler, "that her brother--"

"Fiddlesticks!" said Dr. Lavendar. "Has Ellen started up some fantastic conscientiousness? Spangler, women's consciences are responsible for much unhappiness in this world. But I won't have it in my parish! I'll manage Ellen; trust me." He pulled at his pipe, which had gone out in these moments of agitation. "I tell you, sir," he said, striking a match on the bottom of his chair, "these saintly, self-sacrificing women do a fine work for the devil, if they only knew it, bless their hearts."

"You misapprehend," said Mr. Spangler, wretchedly; and then told Miss Ellen's news. It was brief enough, this last letter; there was no blame of David; indeed, he had displayed, Miss Baily said, "a true chivalry; but of course--" "Of course," said Mr. Spangler.

But Dr. Lavendar broke out so fiercely that Danny squeaked and jumped down out of the chair. "Upon my word; upon my word, Spangler, what were you thinking of to let it go on? If I had been at home, it would never--upon my _word_!" This was one of the times that Dr. Lavendar felt the limitations of his office in regard to language. Mr. Spangler, his elbows on his knees, his chin on hands, was staring miserably at the floor.

"I shall, I trust, meet it in the proper spirit," he said.

Dr. Lavendar nodded. "Of course," he said. "Fortunately, she is dealing with a man who has backbone--perhaps."

Mr. Spangler sighed. "I regret to say that her presence in her school under the circumstances does seem imperative."

Dr. Lavendar lighted his pipe. "Do you mean on account of money, Spangler?"

"The support of Mr. David Baily and this--this _female_, must be met, I suppose, by Miss Baily's school."

"You are not so situated that you--" began Dr. Lavendar, delicately.

"My circumstances," said Augustus Spangler, "are not affluent. I have my residence in Mercer; and I supply, as you know. But my income barely suffices for one. Four--would be out of the question."

Dr. Lavendar looked at Ellen's little, happy note, lying half open on the table. "Poor old jack-donkey of a David!" he groaned.

"His selfishness," said Augustus Spangler, between his teeth, his voice suddenly trembling with anger, "is perfectly incomprehensible to me--perfectly incomprehensible! I endeavor always to exercise charity in judging any human creature; but--really, _really_!"

"It isn't selfishness as much as silliness. David hasn't mind enough to be deliberately selfish. The poor fellow never thought. He never has thought. Ellen has always done the thinking for the family. Well, the harm's done. But, Spangler--" the old man stopped and glanced sharply at the forlorn and angry man opposite him. Yes, he certainly seemed very unhappy;--and as for Ellen! Dr. Lavendar could not bear that thought. "Spangler, I'll stand by you. I won't let her offer you up as well as herself. There must be some way out."

Mr. Spangler shook his head hopelessly. "The support of four persons on my small stipend is impossible."

"Spangler, my boy!" said Dr. Lavendar, suddenly, "there is a way out. What an old fool I am not to have thought of it! My dear fellow"--Dr. Lavendar leaned over and tapped Mr. Spangler's knee, chuckling aloud--"_that secretaryship_!"

"Secretaryship?" Mr. Spangler repeated, vaguely.

"You declined it? I know. But I don't believe Brown's got a man yet. I heard from him on another matter, yesterday, and he didn't say he had. Anyway, it's worth trying for. We can telegraph him to-morrow," said Dr. Lavendar, excitedly.

Mr. Spangler stared at him in bewilderment. "But," he said, breathlessly, "I--I don't think--I fear I am not fit." He felt as if caught in a sudden wind; his face grew red with agitation. "I declined it!" he ended, gasping.

"Fit?" said Dr. Lavendar. "My dear man, what fitness is needed? There's nothing to it, Spangler, I assure you." Dr. Lavendar was very much in earnest; he sat forward on the edge of his chair and gesticulated with his pipe. "Don't be too modest, my boy."

"Business entails such responsibilities," Mr. Spangler began, in a frightened voice.

"Oh, but this is mere routine," Dr. Lavendar interrupted; "they want a clergyman--somebody with tact. There's a good deal of church politics in it, I suppose, and they've got to have somebody who would never step on anybody's toes."

"I would never do that," said Mr. Spangler, earnestly, "but--"

"No," said Dr. Lavendar, abruptly, his voice changing--"no, Spangler, you never would." Then he was silent for a moment, pulling on his pipe, wondering perhaps, in spite of himself, at Ellen. "No, you never would. You see, you are just the man for the place. Brown said they wanted somebody who was presentable; he said they didn't need any particular abil--I mean any particular business ability."

"But," said Mr. Spangler, "to give up my sacred calling--"

"Spangler, come now! you don't 'call' very loudly, do you? There, my dear boy, let an old fellow have his joke. I merely mean you don't preach as often as if you had a regular parish. And you can supply, you know, there just as well as here."

"The Master's service is my first consideration," said Augustus Spangler.

Dr. Lavendar looked at him over his spectacles. "Mr. Spangler, the Christian business-man serves the Master just as well as we do."

"I should wish to reflect," said Mr. Spangler.

"Of course."

"Miss Baily would, I fear, object to going so far away."

"If the place is still open, I'll manage Ellen," said Dr. Lavendar; but he looked at Mr. Spangler narrowly. "And your own entreaties will, of course, weigh with her if you show determination. I think you told me you were pretty determined?"

"I have," said Mr. Spangler, "an iron will; but that would not justify me in insisting if Miss Baily--" His voice trailed off; it rose before him--the far-off, bustling city, the office, the regular hours, the people whose toes must not be stepped upon, the letters to write and read, the papers to file, all the exact minutiae the position involved. And his comfortable old house? his leisure? his ease? And Mary Ann? Mary Ann would never consent to go so far! "I--I really--" he began.

Dr. Lavendar frowned. "Mr. Spangler, I would not seem to urge you. Ellen is too dear to us for that. But if you appreciate her as I suppose you do--"

"I do indeed!" broke in poor Augustus Spangler, fervently.

"The way is probably open to you."

"But--" said Mr. Spangler, and then broke out, with marked agitation; "I--I really don't see how I could possibly--" Yet even as he spoke he thought of Ellen's sweet eyes. "Good Heavens!" said Mr. Spangler, passionately; "what shall I do?"

But Dr. Lavendar was silent. Mr. Spangler got up and began to walk about.

"My affection and esteem," he said, almost weeping, "are unquestioned. But there are other considerations."

Dr. Lavendar said nothing.

"It is a cruel situation," said Mr. Spangler.

Dr. Lavendar looked down at his pipe.

There was a long silence. Augustus Spangler walked back and forth. Dr. Lavendar said never a word.

"A man must consider his own fitness for such a position," Mr. Spangler said, pleadingly.

"Perhaps," Dr. Lavendar observed, mildly, "Ellen's affections are not very deeply engaged? It will be better so."

"But they are!" cried Mr. Spangler. "I assure you that they are! And I--I was so happy," said the poor man; and sniffed suddenly, and tried to find the pocket in his coat-tails.

Dr. Lavendar looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

Mr. Spangler stood stock-still; he opened and shut his hands, his lips were pressed hard together. He seemed almost in bodily pain, for a slight moisture stood out on his forehead. He was certainly in spiritual pain. The Ideal of Sacrifice was being born in Mr. Spangler's soul. His mild, kind, empty face grew almost noble; certainly it grew very solemn.

"Dr. Lavendar," he said, in a low voice, "_I will do it._"

Dr. Lavendar was instantly on his feet; there was a grip of the hand, and, for a moment, no words.

"I'll telegraph Mr. Brown," said Mr. Spangler, breathlessly.

"So will I!" said Dr. Lavendar.

Mr. Spangler was scarlet with heroism. "It means giving up my house and my very congenial surroundings, and I fear Mary Ann will feel too old to accompany me; but with--with Ellen!"

"She's worth six Mary Anns, whoever Mary Ann may be," said Dr. Lavendar.

"You may have thought me hesitant," said Mr. Spangler, "but I felt that I must weigh the matter thoroughly."

"Why, certainly, man. It was your duty to think what was best for Ellen."

"Exactly," Mr. Spangler said, getting his breath again, and beginning to feel very happy. "And duty is, I hope, my watchword; but I had to reflect," he ended, a little uncomfortably.

But Dr. Lavendar would not let him be uncomfortable. They sat down again, and Dr. Lavendar filled another pipe, and until long after midnight they talked things over--the allowance to be made to David and his bride, the leasing of the house in Mercer, the possible obduracy of Mary Ann, and, most of all, the fine conduct of the Reverend Mr. Spangler.

But when they had said good-night, Dr. Lavendar sat awhile longer by his fireside, his pipe out, his old white head on his breast.

"The minute I get back," he said to himself after a while, sheepishly--"the minute I get back I poke my finger into somebody else's pie. But I think 'twas right: Ellen loves him; and he's not a bad man.--And Brown don't want brains."

Then he chuckled and got up, and blew out the lamp.

THE NOTE