his indignation than the powdery ashes which fell out of it showed the
flame of the cigar he was smoking when he wrote it.) "And as for Ward
himself," the rector went on, "I don't know what to think of him. Did you
know he had given up his salary? Said 'Helen had enough for them to live
on,' and added that they had no right to any more money than was
necessary for their comfort; anything more than that belonged to the
Lord's poor. Bless my soul, the clergyman comes under that head, to my
mind. Yes, sir, he's willing to live on his wife! I declare, the fellow's
a--a--well, I don't know any word for him!"

There was a chorus of astonishment from the ladies.

"'Christian' would be a pretty good word," said Gifford slowly. "Isn't he
following Christ's example rather more literally than most of us?"

"But to live on his wife!" cried Dr. Howe.

"I don't believe," Gifford responded, smiling, "that that would distress
John Ward at all."

"Apparently not," said the rector significantly.

"He loves her too much," Gifford went on, "to think of himself apart from
her; don't you see? They are one; what difference does it make about the
money?"

"Could you do it?" asked Dr. Howe.

"Well, no," Gifford said, shrugging his shoulders; "but then, I'm not
John Ward."