"We don't know enough, perhaps," returned Beryl.
When they went into the house, Beryl slipped away from Coral and shut herself into their bedroom. She was there for a long time alone, and when she came down again she looked brighter and happier, though her eyes were very red, as though she had shed many tears in the solitude of her room.
"Coral," she said, "I have thought of what I will do."
"What?" asked Coral, eagerly.
"It is plain that those children will not listen to reading," said Beryl, in a tone of grave deliberation, "so I think I must try to tell them the Bible stories in my own words, and I've been thinking that if I could get some pictures, pretty coloured ones, you know, like those that I have in my scrapbook, it would make it easier for them to understand."
"What will the pictures be about?" asked Coral, full of wonder.
"Why, Bible pictures of course," replied Beryl. "We might be able to get one of Joseph in the coat of many colours, perhaps."
"But where will you get them?" asked Coral.
"Oh, I shall write and ask papa to send them to me," was Beryl's ready reply.
On the following day Beryl devoted much time to manufacturing a letter to her father, in which she begged him to procure her some beautiful coloured Bible pictures, the largest he could get, and to send them as quickly as possible. The letter, at which she toiled laboriously, was, when finished, a blurred, ill-written, and atrociously spelled epistle; but Beryl despatched it with but slight sense of shame. Her father would know what she meant, and that was enough, she thought.