"But Agrippa felt Paul was speaking the truth, didn't he, Aunt Pamela?" Marigold interposed eagerly.
"I believe he did, otherwise he would not have said, 'Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' I fear there are many like that poor king, Who almost believe, but not quite."
"Ah, ma'am, that's very true!" Mrs. Barker agreed. "People find so many excuses for not leading Christian lives! Perhaps King Agrippa had some favourite sin he couldn't give up, or perhaps he feared folks would laugh at him; or maybe he couldn't trust himself to God."
After that Miss Pamela and Marigold rose to go. The old woman accompanied her visitors to the garden gate.
"It was real good of you to come," she said heartily, "and I'm very grateful to little missy for reading me a chapter. Please give my love to Louisa, and tell her I shall be looking out for her one evening to say good-bye. Good afternoon, ma'am! Good afternoon, missy!"
"She's a nice old woman, isn't she?" Marigold said, as she tripped along by her aunt's side.
"Yes, very," Miss Pamela agreed. "I am glad you told Mrs. Adams about her, Marigold, for you see she has not let much time pass before going to visit her."
The following week, Marigold with her aunts and Barker journeyed to Boscombe. The little girl was full of excitement, anticipating all sorts of pleasures during her sojourn at the seaside, for she felt she could enjoy herself with an easy mind, now her brothers were having a holiday too.
Mrs. Holcroft had written a grateful note to Miss Holcroft and Miss Pamela, thanking them for their great kindness to her boys; and though neither had made a remark, they had both been pleased with the way in which the writer had expressed her appreciation of their thoughtfulness and generosity.
The remembrance of her mother lonely in London was the one reflection that shadowed Marigold's pleasure at this time; but she knew Mrs. Holcroft would not wish her to make a trouble of that, and it was not difficult to be cheerful and happy during those bright summer days.