[The Treasure of Heaven by Marie Corelli]@TWC D-Link book
The Treasure of Heaven

CHAPTER XVIII
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In vain did both Mr.and Mrs.
Arbroath run up and down the little village street, calling at every house, coaxing, cajoling, and promising,--they spoke to deaf ears.
Nothing they could say or do made amends for the "insult" to which the parishioners considered they had been subjected, by the sudden appearance of six strange choirboys and the lanky youth in a black gown, who had carried a gilt cross round and round the tiny precincts of their simple little Church, which,--until the occurrence of this remarkable "mountebank" performance as they called it,--had been everything to them that was sacred in its devout simplicity.

Finally, in despair, Mr.
Arbroath wrote a long letter of complaint to the Bishop of the diocese, and after a considerable time of waiting, was informed by the secretary of that gentleman that the matter would be enquired into, but that in the meantime he had better conduct the Sunday services in the manner to which the parishioners had been accustomed.

This order Arbroath flatly refused to obey, and there ensued a fierce polemical correspondence, during which the Church remained, as has been stated, empty of worshippers altogether.

Casting about for reasons which should prove some contumacious spirit to be the leader of this rebellion, Arbroath attacked Mary Deane among others, and asked her if she was "a regular Communicant." To which she calmly replied-- "No, sir." "And why are you not ?" demanded the clergyman imperiously.
"Because I do not feel like it," she said; "I do not believe in going to Communion unless one really feels the spiritual wish and desire." "Oh! Then that is to say that you are very seldom conscious of any spiritual wish or desire ?" She was silent.
"I am sorry for you!" And Arbroath shook his bullet head dismally.

"You are one of the unregenerate, and if you do not amend your ways will be among the lost----" "'I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, when thou liest howling!'" said Helmsley suddenly.
Arbroath turned upon him sharply.
"What's that ?" he snarled.
"Shakespeare!" and Helmsley smiled.
"Shakespeare! Much you know about Shakespeare!" snapped out the irritated clergyman.


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