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‘Money?’ he answered with the usual smile on his lips. ‘I ‘ave no money.’

‘What d’you mean? You’ve not given me a farthing for ten weeks.’

‘I ‘ave given it to those who want it more than I.’

‘You don’t mean to tell me that you’ve given your salary away?’

‘Yes, dear.’

Mrs Clinton groaned.

‘Oh, you’re dotty!… I can understand giving a threepenny bit, or even sixpence, at the offertory on Sunday at church, and of course one ‘as to give Christmas-boxes to the tradesmen; but to give your whole salary away! ‘Aven’t you got anything left?’

‘No!’

‘You–you aggravating fool! And I’ll be bound you gave it to lazy loafers and tramps and Lord knows what!’

Mr Clinton did not answer; his wife walked rapidly backwards and forwards, wringing her hands.

‘Well, look here, James,’ she said at last. ‘It’s no use crying over spilt milk; but from this day you just give me your salary the moment you receive it. D’you hear? I tell you I will not ‘ave any more of your nonsense.’

‘I shall get no more salaries,’ he quietly remarked.

Mrs Clinton looked at him; he was quite calm, and smilingly returned her glance.

‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked.

‘I am no longer at the office.’

‘James! You ‘aven’t been sacked?’ she screamed.

‘Oh, they said I did not any longer properly attend to my work. They said I was careless, and that I made mistakes; they complained that I was unpunctual, that I went late and came away early; and one day, because I ‘adn’t been there the day before, they told me to leave. I was watching at the bedside of a man who was dying and ‘ad need of me; so ‘ow could I go? But I didn’t really mind; the office ‘indered me in my work.’

‘But what are you going to do now?’ gasped Mrs Clinton.

‘I ‘ave my work; that is more important than ten thousand offices.’

‘But ‘ow are you going to earn your living? What’s to become of us?’

‘Don’t trouble me about those things. Come with me, and work for the poor.’

‘James, think of the children!’

‘What are your children to me more than any other children?’

‘But–‘

‘Woman, I tell you not to trouble me about these things. ‘Ave we not money enough, and to spare?’

He waved his hand, and putting on his top hat, which looked more than ever in need of restoration, went out, leaving his wife in a perfect agony.

There was worse to follow. Coming home a few days later, Mr Clinton told his wife that he wished to speak with her.

‘I ‘ave been looking into my books,’ he said, ‘and I find that we have invested in various securities a sum of nearly seven ‘undred pounds.’

‘Thank ‘Eaven for that!’ answered his wife. ‘It’s the only thing that’ll save us from starvation now that you moon about all day, instead of working like a decent man.’

‘Well, I ‘ave been thinking, and I ‘ave been reading; and I ‘ave found it written–Give all and follow me.’

‘Well, there’s nothing new in that,’ said Mrs Clinton, viciously. ‘I’ve known that text ever since I was a child.’

‘And as it were a Spirit ‘as come to me and said that I too must give all. In short, I ‘ave determined to sell out my stocks and my shares; my breweries are seven points ‘igher than when I bought them; I knew it was a good investment. I am going to realise everything; I am going to take the money in my hand, and I am going to give it to the poor.’

Mrs Clinton burst into tears.

‘Do not weep,’ he said solemnly. ‘It is my duty, and it is a pleasant one. Oh, what joy to make a ‘undred people ‘appy; to relieve a poor man who is starving, to give a breath of country air to little children who are dying for the want of it, to ‘elp the poor, to feed the ‘ungry, to clothe the naked! Oh, if I only ‘ad a million pounds!’ He stretched out his arms in a gesture of embrace, and looked towards heaven with an ecstatic smile upon his lips.