"I wish I had," he acknowledged. "I've half a mind to tell him I'd like to join, but perhaps he won't have me now."
"Oh, I'm sure he will!" Maria assured him, with conviction in her tones.
John Monday shook his head doubtfully, and heaved a deep sigh. Maria glanced at him keenly, struck by the hopeless expression on his countenance. She had always felt sympathy for the lonely workhouse boy who rarely received anything but sharp words from his master; but she would have liked him better if he had not possessed bad qualities, which caused her to look on him with suspicion. When he had first become an inmate of Mr. Harding's house she had pitied him exceedingly, but soon discovering that he deceived his master if it suited his purpose to do so, and told lies without the least compunction, she had set him down as an incorrigible character. Latterly, however, she had slightly modified her opinion of him, and was inclined to look on him with more tolerant eyes.
"What makes you think Mr. Bradley might not admit you into his Bible class?" she asked, after a short pause.
"Because he told me his boys were all steady and respectable," he replied gloomily; "and I don't believe if he knew what I was really like he'd have anything more to do with me."
This was a great deal for John Monday to acknowledge. As a rule, he was on excellent terms with himself.
"I am sure there is something on your mind," she said earnestly; "can't you tell me what it is? If I could help you in any way, I gladly would."
"It's very good of you to say so," he answered, with a ring of real gratitude in his voice; "but I don't see that you can help me. However, I'll tell you what I've done. You remember that Mr. Dawson gave me a half-crown when he was here the other day, don't you?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Well, I've lost it."