"Why, surely, if you wish it, and join your prayer with his. 'Pray God give Jessie Thy Holy Spirit.'"
"And when will I be big enough?"
"To be confirmed, do you mean? It's not so much a question of years, or size, as of understanding, Jack; understanding what you are doing. Jessie quite understands."
"You said when I was big. I want to be big most of all to go to father. He will fetch me when I'm big enough."
"Well, perhaps it might be before father fetches you, in this very church. Who knows? But no one can settle that now."
Jack did not speak of his talk with Uncle Tom even to Aunt Betty, but it sank deep in his heart, taking its place side by side with the great event that he looked forward to in future years, when "he was big," when father would come to fetch him; and before that, Uncle Tom had suggested that he might be confirmed as Jessie was going to be confirmed. He could not have put the notion into words yet, but the seed which was planted in his heart that Sunday sprouted lustily. Meanwhile, the day of the opening of Rumney Church and of Jessie's confirmation drew near. Happily the day proved fine, one of those wonderfully brilliant Tasmanian days that almost beggars description. Tom presented himself in good time at the farm, and failing to find anyone in the house, passed round to the stables at the back, where he found Betty putting Tim, the handsome mettlesome pony, into the shafts of the cart.
"But let me," said Tom, springing to her assistance.
"Thank you, no," said Betty with a laugh. "Tim resents strangers and gets possessed of an evil spirit if anyone handles him but a known and trusted friend. I always have to harness him when I go anywhere. Gently, Tim, gently," as Tim's head went up with a snort as Tom drew near. "I hope you don't mind trusting yourself to me. There's no room for father if we bring the Bishop back. It's a lovely drive, but very rough for the last two miles through a bush road. To go round makes five miles difference."
"If I minded unmade roads or untrained horses I should hardly be fitted for my work as a Bush parson," said Tom with a gay laugh.
"Very well, get in then, and we'll be off."