"I do not think it would be too rough," said Miss Burton; "fishermen's children are not likely to be over nice in their notions. We can hang up some pictures, to make the place look bright and pleasant."
"Oh yes, I have some lovely pictures!" cried Beryl joyfully. "You will let us have the barn, won't you, papa? I think it is a splendid idea of Miss Burton's."
"So it is," acquiesced her father; "a very good idea, as all Miss Burton's ideas seem to be. Let us go and have a look at the barn, and see what can be made of it. I shall have to give my consent, I suppose."
So they all moved off in the direction of the barn, with the exception of Percy, who was left helpless on his couch. He remained alone for some time, greatly to his dissatisfaction, for solitude was very irksome to him now. After awhile, however, Beryl remembered him, and came with radiant face to tell him all that had been arranged.
"Is it not good of papa?" she exclaimed, in a tone of delight. "He says that he will have a wooden floor put to the barn, and some benches made, and a proper window, and then it will make a charming room for our Sunday school. I am so glad Miss Burton asked him about it. I knew he would agree if she asked him."
"What a queer child you are, Beryl!" observed Percy. "You could not look more pleased if any one had given you a thousand pounds. Are you and Coral to be teachers in this grand Sunday school?"
"Yes; we shall teach the little ones," said Beryl, with proud dignity; "Miss Burton will need our help."
"Then you will be 'workers for the kingdom,' I suppose?" remarked Percy, looking at her with a quizzical expression, as he quoted the expression he had heard her use.
Beryl's face flushed. She only answered by a nod.
"I wish you would tell me what you mean by 'the kingdom,' Beryl," said Percy.