"Enter the ministry," replied Dick, forgetting his studied coolness of manner. "What in the world suggested that? Do I look like a preacher?"
They both laughed heartily.
"Well no, I can't say that you do. At least I wouldn't advise you to go into the pulpit with that apron and that cap on; and the spot of ink on the end of your nose is not very dignified."
Dick hastily applied his handkerchief to the spot, while Amy, like a true woman, stood laughing at his confusion. "But seriously," she added, after a moment, "I was not joking. I do think you could do grand work if you were to enter the field. Somehow, I have always felt that you exerted a powerful influence over all with whom you came in touch. Let me make a prophecy; you will yet be a preacher of the Gospel."
"I'm sure," said Dick, "that if I truly came to believe it to be my work, I would not refuse. But that is a question which time alone can answer. Do you remember the first time we met?"
"Indeed I do," the girl replied, laughing again. "It was right here, and you met with an accident at the same time."
Dick's face grew red again. "I should say I did," he muttered.
"I acted like a frightened fool."
"Oh, but you redeemed yourself beautifully though. I have one of those little books yet. I shall always keep it; and when you get to be a famous preacher, I'll exhibit my treasure, and tell how the Rev. Mr. Richard Falkner sat up late one night to design the cover for me, when he was only a poor printer."
"Yes," retorted Dick, "and I'll tell the world how I went to my first church social, and what a charming young lady I met, who told me how much I reminded her of someone she knew."
It was Amy's time to blush now, and she did so very prettily as she hurriedly said, "Let's change the subject. I ought not to be keeping you from your work. Mr. Udell will be asking me to stay away from the office."