"For your poor," he said shyly, as he turned away and left a gift in her palm.
"Thank you for showing us all this," the Boy said, lingering, but not daring to shake hands. "It—it seems very wonderful. I had no idea a mission meant all this."
"Oh, it means more—more than anything you can see."
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye."
In the early evening the reception-room was invaded by the lads' school for their usual Sunday night entertainment. Very proudly these boys and young men sang their glees and choruses, played the fiddle, recited, even danced.
"Pity Mac isn't here!"
"Awful pity. Sunday, too."
Brother Etienne sang some French military songs, and it came out that he had served in the French army. Father Roget sang, also in French, explaining himself with a humourous skill in pantomime that set the room in a roar.
"Well," said the Colonel when he stood up to say good-night, "I haven't enjoyed an evening so much for years."