COLONEL LAWTON. [Chewing his cigar.] I don’t know why he was called upon to leave anything to the church—­he gave it thousands; and only last month, he put in chimes.  As I look at it, he wished to give you something he had used—­something personal.  Perhaps the miniature and the fob ain’t worth three whoops in Hell,—­it’s the sentiment of the thing that counts—­[Chewing the word with his cigar.] the sentiment.  Drive on, Fred.

FREDERIK.  “To Colonel Lawton, my father’s prayer-book.”

COLONEL LAWTON. [Suddenly changing—­dazed.] His prayer-book ... me?

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Seeing FREDERIK lay down the paper and rise.] Is that all?

FREDERIK.  That’s all.

COLONEL LAWTON. [Still dazed.] A prayer-book....  Me?  Well, I’ll be—­ [Struck.] Here, Parson, let’s swap.  You take the prayer-book—­I’ll take the old fob.

REV.  MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [Stiffly.] Thank you.  I already have a prayer-book. [Goes to the window and looks out—­his back turned to the others—­trying to control his feelings.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Her voice trembling with vexation and disappointment.] Well, all that I can say is—­I’m disappointed in your uncle.

COLONEL LAWTON.  Is it for this you hauled us out in the rain, Frederik?

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Bitterly.] I see now ... he only gave to the church to show off.

REV.  MR. BATHOLOMMEY.  Rose! ...  I myself am disappointed, but—­

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  He did!  Or why didn’t he continue his work?  He was not a generous man.  He was a hard, uncharitable, selfish old man.

REV.  MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [Horrified.] Rose, my dear!

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  He was!  If he were here, I’d say it to his face.  The congregation sicked you after him.  Now that he’s gone and you’ll get nothing more, they’ll call you slow—­slow and pokey.  You’ll see!  You’ll see to-morrow.

REV.  MR. BATHOLOMMEY.  Sh!

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  As for the Colonel, who spent half his time with Mr. Grimm, what is his reward?  A watch-fob! [Prophetically.] Henry, mark my words—­this will be the end of you.  It’s only a question of a few weeks.  One of these new football playing ministers, just out of college, will take your place.  It’s not what you preach now that counts; it’s what you coax out of the rich parishioners’ pockets.

REV.  MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [In a low voice.] Mrs. Batholommey!

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  Religion doesn’t stand where it did, Henry—­there’s no denying that.  There was a time when people had to go to church—­they weren’t decent if they didn’t.  Now you have to wheedle ’em in.  The church needs funds in these days when a college professor is openly saying that—­ [Her voice breaks.] the Star of Bethlehem was a comet. [Weeps.