Mona performed her part very gracefully.
Mr. Errington had a good many friends present, but none enjoyed it all so much as the children.
"This is only the very beginning of it," Jill confided to a rough specimen of girlhood, who had been making depreciatory remarks, after the service was over. "You wait till your room is built, then you'll see."
"What shall us see? A parson in a pulpit?"
"You'll see the way to the Golden City," Jill said enthusiastically. "And Mr. Errington will be always telling you about it till you all set out and go. And he'll give you teas and magic lanterns. I wish I lived here to see the workmen build it. I should come and watch them every day, and make them hurry."
As they drove home in the carriage with Mona they heard a startling bit of news.
It was Miss Webb who began talking of the room.
"Mr. Errington is quite down at leaving. He told me it is only his wife's health that takes him. He hopes to hurry on the building—but I doubt if it will be finished before the New Year. It is strange that as soon as he gets his desire about this wild bit of his parish that he should have to leave it."
"Is Mr. Errington going away?" asked Jill breathlessly.
Mona looked at her gravely as she answered—