"Oh!" gasped Peggy, in awe and delight. "But you weren't one of 'em that spoke, sir?"
"No, I was listening to younger and fresher men than myself, and found it good to do so."
"Please, sir," said Peggy, with bright eyes and crimson cheeks, "I've never met a heathen, but a missionary is as next-door as good; could you shake hands with me, please sir?"
"Indeed I will, with pleasure."
Peggy almost felt as proud as if she were shaking hands with the King.
"Thank you, sir, very much," she said; "and please can you tell me if there is heathen who speaks English anywheres, as them's the ones I must go to, for I'm not eddicated for French and such-like."
"I think you will have to content yourself with speaking to the heathen at home," the clergyman said, still smiling. "There are plenty of them, my girl. Perhaps God will show you that you can serve Him best at home. And certainly if you send your savings to enable others to go out, you will be taking part in the great work of evangelising the world."
Peggy's face dropped.
"I've set my mind to goin' to the heathen, please sir, and I'm hopin' to bring on a friend of mine called Ellen to do it too. But if God don't think me fit, He'll let me know it somehow."
And then Peggy marched away with a smiling countenance and a sore heart.