Miss Prism. More shameful debts and extravagance?
Chasuble. Still leading his life of pleasure?
Jack.[Shaking his head.] Dead! I trust he will profit by it.
Chasuble. Mr. Wort hing , I offer you my sincere condolence. You have at least the consolation of knowing that you were always the most generous and forgiving of brothers.
Jack. Poor Ernest! He had many faults, but it is a sad, sad blow.
Chasuble. Very sad indeed. Were you with him at the end?
Jack. No. He died aboard; In Paris, in fact. I had a telegram last night from the manager of t he Grand Hotel.
Chasuble. Was the cause of death mentioned?
Jack. A severe chill, it seems.
Miss Prism. As a man sows, so shall he reap.
Chasuble. [Raising his hand.] Charity, dear Miss Prism, charity! None of us are perfect. I myself am peculiarly susceptible to draughts. Will the interment take place here?
Jack. No, He seems to have expressed a desire to be buried in Paris.
Chasuble. In Paris! [ Shakes his head.} I fear that hardly points to any very serious state of mind at the last. Your would no doubts wish me to make some slight allusion to this tragic domestic affliction next Sunday. [Jack presses his hand convulsively.] My sermon on the meaning of the manna in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any occasion, joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing.[All sigh.] I have preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliation and festal days. The last time I delivered it was in the Cathedral, as a charity sermon o behalf of the Society. For the Prevention of Discontent among Orders. The Bishop , who was present, was much struck by some of the