if uncle William plays heads and tails all alone in the office?"

Mr. Denner stood holding the penny, and gazing blankly at it, unconscious
of the dust upon his cheek.

"That did not decide it," he murmured. "I must try something else."

For Mr. Denner had some small superstitions, and it is doubtful if he
would have questioned fate again in the same way, even if he had not been
interrupted at that moment by the rector.

Dr. Howe came into the office beating his hands to warm them, his face
ruddy and his breath short from a walk in the cold wind. He had come to
see the lawyer about selling a bit of church land; Mr. Denner hastily
slipped his penny into his pocket, and felt his face grow hot as he
thought in what a posture the rector would have found him had he come
a few minutes sooner.

"Bless my soul, Denner," Dr. Howe said, when, the business over, he rose
to go, "this den of yours is cold!" He stooped to shake the logs in the
small stove, hoping to start a blaze. The rector would have resented any
man's meddling with his fire, but all Mr. Denner's friends felt a sort of
responsibility for him, which he accepted as a matter of course.

"Ah, yes," replied Mr. Denner, "it is chilly here. It had not occurred
to me, but it is chilly. Some people manage to keep their houses very
comfortable in weather like this. It is always warm at the rectory, I
notice, and at Henry Dale's, or--ah--the Misses Woodhouse's,--always
warm."