Something in the child’s earnest face at once sobered the minister.
“That depends, Miss Chee,” he answered.
Chee seated herself beside him on the hay. She had forgotten to be afraid.
“Mr. Green,”—the bead-like eyes enlarged, and seemed to soften as she spoke,—“you are a minister, and if you once promise you can’t break your word—ever, can you?”
“Not and be a true minister, I suppose.”
“Then won’t you promise?”
“I guess so.”
“This is a ’portant matter. ‘Guess so’ won’t do. Say ‘yes,’ please.”
“Well, yes, then, little lawyer.” Though just what he was promising was not clear to him, it brought a thoughtful, satisfied expression to Chee’s face as, looking down, she sat absently crumpling hay.
