“I had no idee Mary was doin’ so well,” said old Mrs. Slocum. “That cashmere dress must have cost a good deal.”
“Mary Bridgman was always extravagant,” said Mrs. Hadley disapprovingly. “I don’t believe she saves a cent.”
Mrs. Hadley may perhaps have felt that the dressmaker’s handsome gift was a tacit rebuke for her shabby offering.
Thus far the only gifts of any value had been the dress just mentioned and fifteen dollars in money. It spoke poorly for the liberality of an entire parish, especially when it is considered that three out of the four donors — Mr. Fry, Mary Bridgman and Mabel Frost — were outsiders. Mr. Wilson was not much disappointed. If anything, the visit had been more remunerative than he expected. To one of his scanty income fifteen dollars in cash would be a considerable help. He felt that, on the whole, the donation visit had “paid.”
But there was unexpected good fortune in store for him. Ralph came in with a letter from the post-office, postmarked New York.
“I wonder who it can be from, father,” he said. “Do you know any one in New York?”
“Only Miss Bridgman, and we have heard from her.”
“Better open the letter, parson,” said Mrs. Pulsifer, whose curiosity was excited. “We’ll all excuse you.”
Thus adjured, the minister did so. As he read, his face became luminous with joy, and he fervently ejaculated, Thank God for all His goodness!”
“What is it, parson?” inquired Deacon Peabody.
“My friends,” said the minister, clearing his throat, “I want you all to be partakers of my joy. I will read the letter. It is dated New York.
“REV. MR. WILSON — DEAR SIR: — I have this day deposited the sum of five hundred dollars in the Gotham Trust Company of New York city, in your name, and subject to your draft. Pardon me for not communicating my name. Rest assured that it comes from one who appreciates your services, and hopes to be considered your sincere friend and well wisher.”
The reading of the letter produced a sensation. Deacon Peabody asked to see it. He put on his spectacles and examined it intently.
“I guess it’s genooine,” he said cautiously. “Really, Parson Wilson, it makes you a rich man.”
“I congratulate you, Mr. Wilson,” said Squire Hadley, cordially shaking the minister’s hand. “We ain’t so liberal as we might be, but I’m glad to find there’s somebody that’s open handed. Here’s ten dollars to add to your five hundred.”
“You overwhelm me, Squire Hadley,” said the good man. “I feel rebuked for my want of faith in Providence. This morning I awoke with a heavy heart. Little did I dream that the burden was this day to be rolled away. Now I can start fresh, and henceforth I hope to pay my way.”
It seemed odd what a sudden accession of respect there was for the minister now that he had money in the bank.
“Oh, Mr. Wilson, don’t you be in a hurry about my husband’s little account,” said Mrs. Bennett. “He’ll know you’re good for it, and that’ll ease his mind.”
“Mrs. Bennett,” said the minister gravely, “I am obliged for your offer, but I shall attend to your husband’s claim at once. I have always wished to pay my debts promptly. Nothing but lack of ability has prevented.”
It was quite in order that conjectures should be hazarded as to the unknown donor of this munificent gift. Who was there in New York likely to feel interested in the minister of Granville? Some one suggested that Mr. Randolph Chester lived in New York, and straightway he was questioned on the subject. He smiled, and shrugged his shoulders.
“My dear madam,” said he to old Mrs. Pulsifer, “if I am the person I certainly shall not own it. I prefer to remain silent.”
This led to the inference that Mr. Chester really gave the money, though no one had suspected him previously of any tendency to liberality. But there were rival claimant’s. The Raymonds were from Brooklyn, and generally supposed to be wealthy. Could they be Mr. Wilson’s unknown friends? When it was suggested to them they replied evasively, neither admitting nor denying it. So opinion was divided, but it was generally thought that it lay between Mr. Chester and the Raymonds. Of course it was not Mary Bridgman, because she sent the handsome dress for Mrs. Wilson.