Lessons in Life, for All Who Will Read Them Part 15

"In what did this personality consist?" asked one of the visitors.

"It's hardly necessary to ask that question," replied Grant.

"It is for me. No one, whom I have yet seen, has been able to give me any information on the subject."

"If you ask Mr. C--, he will enlighten you."

"I have already done so."

"You have?"

"Yes."

"What was his reply?"

"That he is innocent of the personality laid to his charge."

"Did you mention my name?"

"I did."

"Well?"

"He had not even heard of you as a member of the church here."

"I can hardly credit that, after what he said."

"You will, at least, give him the chance of vindication. He is now at my house, and has expressed a wish to see you."

"I don't know that any good will grow out of seeing him," said Mr.

Grant, who felt but little inclined to meet the preacher.

"I'm sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Grant. You have made a complaint against Mr. C--, and when he wishes to confer with you on the subject, you decline, under the a.s.sumption that no good can arise from it. This is not right; and I hope you will think better of it."

"Perhaps it isn't right; but so it is. At present, I do not wish to see him. I may feel differently to-morrow."

"Shall we call upon-you in the morning?"

"If you please to do so."

"Very well."

And the two official members departed.

No sooner were they gone, than Mr. Grant put or his hat and left his shop. He went direct to the store of Mr. Harrison.

"You are just the man I was thinking about," said the latter, as the jeweller entered. "What is all this trouble about you and Mr. C--? I hear some rumour of it at every turn."

"That is just what I have come to see you about."

"Very well; what can I do in the matter? Mr. C--, you allege, has held you up in the congregation to public odium?"

"I do."

"In what way?"

"Strange that you should ask the question."

"Why so? What have I to do with it?"

"A great deal," said Grant, his brows falling as he spoke.

"I must plead innocence until shown my guilt. So far, I have not even been able to learn in what the allusion to yourself consisted."

"_You_ have not?"

"No."

Grant stood, tightly compressing his lips, for some moments. He then said:

"You remember that affair of the gold ring?"

"Very well."

"You mentioned this to C--."

"No. Nor to a living soul since the occurrence of the fact."

"What?"

"Nothing on that subject has ever pa.s.sed my lips. I believed that you saw and repented of your error, and in honour and in conscience refrained from even the remotest allusion to the subject."

"How, then, did Mr. C-- become cognisant of the fact?"

"If cognisant all, it was from another source than the one you supposed."

"I never mentioned it. You were the only one to whom the circ.u.mstance was communicated. How, then, could the matter have gotten abroad?"

"I don't believe a single member of the congregation ever heard of it."

"Oh, yes, they have. These has been a marked change in the manner of very many towards me. So apparent was this at one time, that I absented myself from church, rather than encounter it."

"All your imagination, brother Grant, and nothing else. I believe that I mingle as freely with the congregation as any one, and I know that I never heard a breath against you. At present, every one is at a loss to know in what way Mr. C-- pointed you out; he is equally in the dark."

"I was sure he meant me. It was so plain," said Mr. Grant, his countenance falling, and his manner becoming subdued.

"There was nothing of the kind, you may depend upon it," replied Mr.

Harrison.