"Were you laughing at our little shop?" the old lady questioned.
"Yes," Marigold acknowledged; "they seem to sell all sorts of things there."
"So they do. They keep a little of everything. You see, we are three miles from Exeter, and I do not know how we should get on without our shop. Have you enjoyed the drive?"
"Oh, so much, thank you! It has been a beautiful afternoon!"
They found Farmer Jo on the look-out for their return. He smiled when he saw Marigold with the reins in her hand, and told her on Monday when he took her home, she should drive Colonel in the dogcart.
The little girl's visit was slipping away all too quickly, she thought. On Sunday morning she accompanied Mrs. Adams and her son to church, and sat between them in a large square pew. It was only when they stood up that she could see the rest of the congregation, for the seats were of the high-backed, old-fashioned kind, with doors.
The worshippers were mostly of the labouring classes, and the choir was composed of women as well as men. It was a simple service, and the clergyman—an old man who had held the living for nearly half a century, and who knew the histories of all his parishioners—preached a plain sermon, such as the most uneducated person could understand, taking for his text the first part of the fifty-first verse of the second chapter of St. Luke's Gospel—
"'And He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them.'"
He proceeded to explain how Jesus fulfilled His duty to His earthly parents, submitting to their rule and doing their bidding. It was a sermon on duty,—the duty we owe to each other, and, above all, the duty of every living soul to God. Marigold listened intently, and was quite sorry when the clergyman had finished, for he had a simple, direct way of speaking, and possessed a pleasant voice that had a ring of sincerity in its mellow tones.
Outside in the churchyard, when the service was over, Mrs. Adams and Farmer Jo exchanged greetings with their friends and neighbours, as is the fashion in country parishes, and Marigold was introduced to so many strangers that she was rosy with blushes on account of the attention she was drawing upon herself, and the questions she had to answer.