Mrs.Wright was a woman of fortune and very prominent, he reflected, but she was really kind; she was just a crank, and, somehow, she appeared really to believe in him.

Her husband, Livingstone did not like: a cold, selfish man, who cared for nothing but money-making and his own family.
There was one name down on the book for a small amount which Livingstone could not recall .-- Oh yes, he was an assistant preacher at Livingstone's church: the donation was for a Christmas-tree in a Children's Hospital, or something of the kind.

This was one of Mrs.
Wright's charities too.

Livingstone remembered the note the preacher had written him afterwards--it had rather jarred on him, it was so grateful.
He hated "gush," he said to himself; he did not want to be bothered with details of yarn-gloves, flannel petticoats, and toys.

He took out his pencil and wrote Mrs.Wright's name on the stub.