"No," said Mr. Errington, leaning back in his chair with a laugh; "I am dazed with figures. Let us be refreshed by one of the fresh things in this world. There is nothing like a child for relieving one of care."
Jill was ushered in, flushed and excited. She could hardly wait to shake hands.
"Jack and Bumps are willing, and so I've come with it," she said. "It's to help to build that church on the common. Miss Falkner said we might, and I've brought it in our bag."
She put a scarlet flannel bag on the table, and went on—
"You see we haven't begun very long, so there's only a little to start with; but we shall always be putting in, because we often get presents, and I've spoken to Mr. Stone, and we've counted that his fifteen cabbages will bring him one shilling and tenpence halfpenny, and he says that had better be given to you too."
It seemed incoherent, but Mrs. Errington gently drew the explanation out of the child, and though Jill did not divulge the spot of their "Bethel," her account interested the rector and his wife greatly.
"It will be money well spent," Mr. Errington said, "for it will be the means of telling those poor folk of the love of the Saviour."
"And you will have the honour, Jill dear, of starting the collection," said Mrs. Errington.
"It's a pity," said Jill with knitted brows, "that you can't get every one to give you their tenth."
"I don't think there are many people who do give their tenth," said the rector.