“Yes, coming!” said David cheerfully, and he gave the old lady a last shake of the hand. “Now!” he said, and turned.
'Thusia, pushing between Mr. Wiggett and Mr. Hoskins, came with her hand extended and her face glowing.
“I waited until they were all gone,” she said eagerly. “I wanted to tell you how splendid your sermon was. It was wonderful, Mr. Dean. I'm coming every Sunday—”
David took her hand. He was glowing with the kindly greetings and praises that had been showered upon him, and his happiness showed in his eyes. He would have beamed on anyone at that moment, and he beamed on 'Thusia. He said something pleasantly conventional and 'Thusia chattered on, still holding his hand, although in his general elation he was hardly aware of this and not at all aware that the girl was clinging to his hand so firmly that he could not have drawn it away had he tried. She knew they made a striking picture as they stood on the top step and she stood as dose to him as she could, so that she had to look up and David had to look down. The departing congregation, looking back for a last satisfactory glimpse of their fine new dominie, carried away a picture of David holding 'Thusia's hand and looking down into her face.
“Come, come! Dinner's waiting!” Mr. Wiggett growled impatiently.
“Well, good-by, Mr. Dean,” 'Thusia exclaimed. “My dinner is waiting, too, and you must not keep me forever, you know. I suppose we'll see a great deal of each other, anyway. Now—will you please let me have my hand?”
She laughed and David dropped her hand. He blushed. 'Thusia ran down the steps and David turned to see Mary Wiggett standing in the vestibule door in an attitude best described as insultedly aloof.
Mr. Wiggett's face was red.
“Her dinner waiting!” he cried. “She's got to go home and get it before it waits. She's a forward, street-gadding hussy!”
“Father!” exclaimed his daughter.