done them—had indeed commenced, then stopped. He must go on alone, pretending she was at his back to suggest and encourage, to call out whenever he skipped a note or got the time wrong. Dr. Wilcove had said Paul reminded him of his aunt, and Paul was shrewd enough to notice that the remark had been made when he was in a rebellious mood. Through the haze of memory there came a ring of revolutionary spears against conventional bucklers. It came in the form of daring epigrams muttered by Aunt Verona which, though incomprehensible, had lingered for future consideration. Dr. Wilcove's remark gave him not only a clue to himself, but a clue to Aunt Verona. They were bold pioneers, he and Aunt Verona. The minister said that the meek should inherit the earth. The meek! What had the meek minister inherited, or the meek Miss Todd? Mr. Silva was meek and had inherited more than all the others, though he was one of the poorest men in the village—but his inheritance, which was an inheritance of understanding and common sense, he had brought with him—from Portugal! And he enjoyed his heritage in spite of his meekness, rather than by reason of it. Mr. Silva could have been an adventurer; indeed when he had been ship's carpenter on the Brandywine he had been an adventurer, serving under a very prince of adventurers, who had roamed the world over, who had saved Dutch sailors from a burning ship in an Atlantic hurricane, and brought Aunt Verona one of the finest pianos in all Germany.
To the minister Paul announced that he would like to resign his post as organist. His only excuse was "Under the circumstances," but he advanced it so adroitly that the minister had no choice but to look and say:
"Well, my little man, you've done a splendid work for the Master, and we shall sorely miss your help. I trust that when the next few weeks have brought comfort and blessing, you will be ready to resume the post again."
