an insensible but powerfully acknowledged antagonism existed between
the faithful old servant and his young master. They did not hate one
another--that would have been too strong a term--but Doctor Leatrim
often remarked with pain that there was no love lost between them, and
often blamed George for the indifference he manifested towards his
humble friend.

'You remember the beautiful old church at Westcliff, surrounded by its
venerable screen of oaks and elms, and the pretty white parsonage on
the other side of the road, facing the principal entrance to the
church? The house occupies an elevation some feet above the churchyard.
The front windows command a fine view of the sacred edifice,
particularly of the carved porch within the iron gates at the entrance,
and the massive oak door through which you enter into the body of the
building. A person standing at one of these windows at sunset, and
looking towards the porch, can see everything there as distinctly as if
he were in it. Recollect this circumstance, for it is connected with my
story.

'In the porch Dr. Leatrim had placed a box against the wall, on the
right-hand side as you went in, for receiving contributions for the
poor. It was only unlocked twice a year, at Christmas and Easter, and
its contents distributed to the most needy among his parishioners.
There were many wealthy people in the neighbourhood, and the poor-box
generally yielded a plentiful harvest for the destitute.

'The key of the box was always kept in the rector's study, and occupied
the same hook with the key of the church. The windows of this room were
directly opposite to the church. No person had access to this apartment
but Dr. Leatrim, his wife and son, and old Ralph. The latter kept it in