Lavendar thought. He would admit Sam's sentimentality and urge putting
the matter before his father. Then he would pin Benjamin down to a
date. That secured, he would present a definite proposal to Samuel.
"He is the lion in the way," he told himself anxiously; "I am pretty
sure I can manage Benjamin." Yet surely if he could only put it
properly to Samuel, if he could express the pitiful trouble in the old
father's soul, the senior warden's heart would soften. "It must touch
him!" Dr. Lavendar thought, and closed his eyes for a moment....

When he said _Amen_, the bird-calls were like flutes of triumph.

On his way up the hill that morning, he paused under a great chestnut
to talk to David Allison, who, a strapful of books over his shoulder,
was running down the path to school. David was willing to be detained;
he pulled some grass for Goliath and told Dr. Lavendar that Mrs.
Richie had bought him a pair of suspenders. "And I said a bad word
yesterday," he ended proudly.

"Well, now, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's been in me a good while," David explained, "but yesterday I said
it. It was 'damn.'"

"It's a foolish word, David; I never use it."

"You _don't_?" David said blankly, and all his pride was gone.
They parted with some seriousness; but Dr. Lavendar was still
chuckling when he turned in at Benjamin Wright's neglected carriage
road where burdocks and plantains grew rank between the wheel-tracks.
As he came up to the house he saw Mr. Wright sitting out in the sun on