Part 15 (1/2)

This was one of them and Tommy knew it. ”Wait till you see the west town end,” he said bravely; ”it's grand.” But when they were in the west town end, and he had to admit it, ”Wait till you see the square,” he said, and when they were in the square, ”Wait,” he said, huskily, ”till you see the town-house.” Alas, this was the town-house facing them, and when they knew it, he said hurriedly, ”Wait till you see the Auld Licht Kirk.”

They stood long in front of the Auld Licht Kirk, which he had sworn was bigger and lovelier than St. Paul's, but--well, it is a different style of architecture, and had Elspeth not been there with tears in waiting, Tommy would have blubbered. ”It's--it's littler than I thought,” he said desperately, ”but--the minister, oh, what a wonderful big man he is!”

”Are you sure?” Elspeth squeaked.

”I swear he is.”

The church door opened and a gentleman came out, a little man, boyish in the back, with the eager face of those who live too quickly. But it was not at him that Tommy pointed rea.s.suringly; it was at the monster church key, half of which protruded from his tail pocket and waggled like the hilt of a sword.

Speaking like an old residenter, Tommy explained that he had brought his sister to see the church, ”She's ta'en aback,” he said, picking out Scotch words carefully, ”because it's littler than the London kirks, but I telled her--I telled her that the preaching is better.”

This seemed to please the stranger, for he patted Tommy on the head while inquiring, ”How do you know that the preaching is better?”

”Tell him, Elspeth,” replied Tommy modestly.

”There ain't nuthin' as Tommy don't know,” Elspeth explained. ”He knows what the minister is like too.”

”He's a n.o.ble sight,” said Tommy.

”He can get anything from G.o.d he likes,” said Elspeth.

”He's a terrible big man,” said Tommy.

This seemed to please the little gentleman less. ”Big!” he exclaimed, irritably; ”why should he be big?”

”He is big,” Elspeth almost screamed, for the minister was her last hope.

”Nonsense!” said the little gentleman. ”He is--well, I am the minister.”

”You!” roared Tommy, wrathfully.

”Oh, oh, oh!” sobbed Elspeth.

For a moment the Rev. Mr. Dishart looked as if he would like to knock two little heads together, but he walked away without doing it.

”Never mind,” Tommy whispered hoa.r.s.ely to Elspeth. ”Never mind, Elspeth, you have me yet.”

This consolation seldom failed to gladden her, but her disappointment was so sharp to-day that she would not even look up.

”Come away to the cemetery, it's grand,” he said; but still she would not be comforted.

”And I'll let you hold my hand--as soon as we're past the houses,” he added.

”I'll let you hold it now,” he said eventually; but even then Elspeth cried dismally, and her sobs were hurting him more than her.

He knew all the ways of getting round Elspeth, and when next he spoke it was with a sorrowful dignity. ”I didna think,” he said, ”as yer wanted me never to be able to speak again; no, I didna think it, Elspeth.”

She took her hands from her face and looked at him inquiringly.

”One of the stories mamma telled me and Reddy,” he said, ”were about a man what saw such a beauty thing that he was struck dumb with admiration. Struck dumb is never to be able to speak again, and I wish I had been struck dumb when you wanted it.”

”But I didn't want it!” Elspeth cried.