He was willing to go down and
do what he could to arouse Mr. Wentworth to the gravity of the
situation, but he could neither forget nor endure the hint that he
should make of the hope of his mother's conversion to the church a
bribe. He could not think of this without being moved to blame Father
Frontford; and he set himself to argue his mind into the belief that
there was no harm in the suggestion. He walked along in a reverie as
deep as it was painful, trying to see that the occasion called for the
use of all lawful means, and that it was natural for the Father to
suppose that Mrs. Ashe might be influenced more readily if the rector
yielded to the wishes of her son in voting for Frontford.
"My dear Ashe, what have you been doing to yourself?" a strong voice
asked him.
He came with a start to the consciousness of where he was, and that he
had almost run into the Rev. De Lancy Candish. The thought flashed
through his mind that Father Frontford had been too deeply absorbed in
his plans to notice the bruised face of his deacon.
"How do you do?" he exclaimed impulsively. "Providence has sent you to
me.
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