My final
decision I announced to Mr. Andrewes.
"Mr. Clerke and I will always be curates, and work under you."
On which the tutor would sigh, and say, "I wish it could be so, Regie,
for I do not think I shall ever like any other place, or church, or
people so well again."
At this time my alms-box was well filled, thanks to the liberality of
Mr. Clerke. He now taxed his small income as I taxed my pocket-money
(a very different matter!), and though I am sure he must sometimes
have been inconveniently poor, he never failed to put by his share of
our charitable store.
Some brooding over the matter led me to say to him one Sunday, "You
and I, sir, are like the widow and the other people in the lesson
to-day: I put into the box out of my pocket-money, and you out of your
living."
The tutor blushed painfully; partly, I think, at my accurate
comprehension of the difference between our worldly lots, and partly
in sheer modesty at my realizing the measure of his self-sacrifice.
When first he began to contribute, he always kept back a certain sum,
which he as regularly sent away, to whom I never knew. He briefly
explained, "It is for a good object." But at last a day came when he
announced, "I no longer have that call upon me.
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