And in the study below Rev. John Meredith walked the
floor with rapt face and shining eyes, thinking out
his message of the morrow, and knew not that under
his own roof there was a little forlorn soul, stumbling
in darkness and ignorance, beset by terror and compassed
about with difficulties too great for it to grapple
in its unequal struggle with a big indifferent world.
The manse children took Mary Vance to church with
them the next day. At first Mary objected to
the idea.
“Didn’t you go to church over-harbour?”
asked Una.
“You bet. Mrs. Wiley never troubled church
much, but I went every Sunday I could get off.
I was mighty thankful to go to some place where I
could sit down for a spell. But I can’t
go to church in this old ragged dress.”
This difficulty was removed by Faith offering the
loan of her second best dress.
“It’s faded a little and two of the buttons
are off, but I guess it’ll do.”
“I’ll sew the buttons on in a jiffy,”
said Mary.
“Not on Sunday,” said Una, shocked.
“Sure. The better the day the better the
deed. You just gimme a needle and thread and
look the other way if you’re squeamish.”
Faith’s school boots, and an old black velvet
cap that had once been Cecilia Meredith’s, completed
Mary’s costume, and to church she went.
Her behaviour was quite conventional, and though some
wondered who the shabby little girl with the manse
children was she did not attract much attention.
She listened to the sermon with outward decorum and
joined lustily in the singing. She had, it appeared,
a clear, strong voice and a good ear.
“His blood can make the violets clean,”
carolled Mary blithely. Mrs. Jimmy Milgrave,
whose pew was just in front of the manse pew, turned
suddenly and looked the child over from top to toe.
Mary, in a mere superfluity of naughtiness, stuck out
her tongue at Mrs. Milgrave, much to Una’s horror.
“I couldn’t help it,” she declared
after church. “What’d she want to
stare at me like that for? Such manners!
I’m glad stuck my tongue out at her.
I wish I’d stuck it farther out. Say,
I saw Rob MacAllister from over-harbour there.
Wonder if he’ll tell Mrs. Wiley on me.”
No Mrs. Wiley appeared, however, and in a few day
the children forgot to look for her. Mary was
apparently a fixture at the manse. But she refused
to go to school with the others.
“Nope. I’ve finished my education,”
she said, when Faith urged her to go. “I
went to school four winters since I come to Mrs. Wiley’s
and I’ve had all I want of that. I’m
sick and tired of being everlastingly jawed at ’cause
I didn’t get my home-lessons done. I’d
no time to do home-lessons.”
“Our teacher won’t jaw you. He is
awfully nice,” said Faith.
