The perfect man must always feel rich, because God is rich.
"The fact is," Mr.Drake went on, "we are very poor--absolutely poor, Mr.Wingfold--so poor that I may not even refuse the trifling annuity my late congregation will dole out to me." "I am sorry to know it," said the curate.
"But I must take heed of injustice," the pastor resumed; "I do not think they would have treated me so had they not imagined me possessed of private means.

The pity now is that the necessity which would make me glad to fall in with your kind proposal itself renders the thing impracticable.

Even with what your friend would contribute to the housekeeping we could not provide a table fit for her.

But Dorothy ought to have the pleasure of hearing your kind proposition: if you will allow me I will call her." Dorothy was in the kitchen, making pastry--for the rare treat of a chicken pudding: they had had a present of a couple of chickens from Mrs.Thomson--when she heard her father's voice calling her from the top of the little stair.

When Lisbeth opened the door to the curate she was on her way out, and had not yet returned; so she did not know any one was with him, and hurried up with her arms bare.