him as a matter of conscience to say that, while he was not
complaining, nevertheless he really needed help and counsel. He said
that his scattered flock was being lost for the want of things which
could not be supplied out of its poverty. He told the Vicar-General
what was needed. The Vicar-General remembered that he had agreed with
him; but had informed him very gently that it was the policy of the
diocese to let each parish maintain and support itself. The
Vicar-General had felt justified in refusing his aid, especially
since, at that time, he was collecting for a new organ for his own
church, one with three banks of keys--the old one had but two. The
Vicar-General now knew that his slight feeling of worry at the time
was not groundless; but while then he had felt vaguely that he was
wrong in his position, now he was certain of error. His eyes sought
all through his own witnesses, but they found no likelihood of a
testimony in his favor based on the purchase of that grand organ. Then
it all came to the Vicar-General, from the eyes of the Silent Angel,
that he had received on earth all the reward that was due to him for
it.

The presence of the men of all colors and of strange garbs was still a
mystery to the Vicar-General; but at last he saw among them a bent old
priest with a long beard and a crucifix in his girdle. At once the
Vicar-General recognized him and his heart sank. Too well he
remembered the poor missionary who had begged for assistance: money, a
letter, a recommendation--anything; and had faced the inflexible
official for half an hour during his pleading. The Vicar-General had
felt at that time, as he felt when his poor diocesan brother had come
to him, that there was so much to be done at home, absolutely nothing
could be sent out. There was the Orphanage which the Bishop was
building and they were just beginning to gather funds for a new