The room had an air of having come in perfect and luxurious condition, fur-lined and jewel-clasped, as it were, from the hands of a good decorator, and of having stopped at that.  The great triple lamp glowed green as if set with gigantic emeralds; and its soft light shone on a scheme of color full of charm for the eye.  The stuffs, the woodwork, were of a delightful harmony, but it seemed that the books and the pictures were chosen to match them.  The man talking, in the great carved armchair by the fire, fitted the place.  His vigorous, pleasant face looked prosperous, and so kindly was his air that one might not cavil at a lack of subtler qualities.  He drew a long breath as he brought out the last words of the story he was telling.

“And that, Mr. North,” he concluded, “is the way the firm of Litterny Brothers, the leading jewellers of this city, were done yesterday by a person or persons unknown, to the tune of five thousand dollars.”  His eyes turned from the blazing logs to his guest.

The young man in his clerical dress stood as he listened, with eyes wide like a child’s, fixed on the speaker.  He stooped and picked up a poker and pushed the logs together as he answered.  The deliberateness of the action would not have prepared one for the intensity of his words.  “I never wanted to be a detective before,” he said, “but I’d give a good deal to catch the man who did that.  It was such planned rascality, such keen-witted scoundrelism, that it gives me a fierce desire to show him up.  I’d like to teach the beggar that honesty can be as intelligent as knavery; that in spite of his strength of cunning, law and right are stronger.  I wish I could catch him,” and the brass poker gleamed in a savage flourish.  “I’d have no mercy.  The hungry wretch who steals meat, the ignorant sinner taught to sin from babyhood—­I have infinite patience for such.  But this thief spoke like a gentleman, and the maid said he was ’a pretty young man’—­there’s no excuse for him.  He simply wanted money that wasn’t his,—­there’s no excuse.  It makes my blood boil to think of a clever rascal like that succeeding in his rascality.”  With that the intense manner had dropped from him as a garment, and he was smiling the gentlest, most whimsical smile at the older man.  “You’ll think, Mr. Litterny, that it’s the loss of my new parish-house that’s making me so ferocious, but, honestly, I’d forgotten all about it.”  And no one who heard him could doubt his sincerity.  “I was thinking of the case from your point of view.  As to the parish-house, it’s a disappointment, but of course I know that a large loss like this must make a difference in a man’s expenditures.  You have been very good to St. John’s already,—­a great many times you have been good to us.”

“It’s a disappointment to me as well,” Litterny said.  “Old St. John’s of Newburyport has been dear to me many years.  I was confirmed and married there—­but you know.  Everything I could do for it has been a satisfaction.  And I looked forward to giving this parish-house.  In ordinary years a theft of five thousand dollars would not have prevented me, but there have been complications and large expenses of late, to which this loss is the last straw.  I shall have to postpone the parish-house,—­but it shall be only postponed, Mr. North, only postponed.”