"Sure the Lord heard him, Ailie. Ain't we told, 'Look unto Him and be ye saved?' and didn't He say, 'Come unto Me, and I will give you rest'? There's a many came to Him, and some didn't know much about Him, nor how to speak to Him, but I never heard as He turned one away. He always hears an' answers."
Job rose from the table as he spoke, but he took out no work that day. He let Ailie wash up, and then he called her to his side, and read aloud the story of the Crucifixion, adding brief explanations as he went along. Ailie listened for a while, and, when she grew restless, Job broke off.
"That'll do now, I reckon," he said. "Don't ye go an' forget, little un'. It's time to think o' Church."
"Church!" repeated Ailie, in astonishment.
"Sure enough, Church is for everybody to worship God in," said Job. "I'd be main sorry to stay away. Will ye come with me, Ailie?"
"I ain't fit," said Ailie, looking down at her soiled and ragged frock.
"To—be—sure," said Job slowly. "Why didn't I think o' that afore now, an' get ye all washed and patched? 'Tisn't as my own clothes is anythin' much, but they be well mended, an' as clean as clean! Good thing I'm a tailor, an' independent o' the woman-kind, havin' none belongin' to me."
"I ain't clean," said Ailie.
"Seems I had best leave ye at home to-day, an get ye all in shape afore next Sunday," said Job. "Eh, deary?"
Ailie had no objection. She rather wanted to stretch her limbs after sitting so long. So she sought out Lettie, and indulged herself in a wild scamper through the back-yard, while Job Kippis made his way to the nearest City Church, with its scanty congregation and quiet Service.