CHAPTER VII.
HARD QUESTIONS.
After waiting until the minister left the vestry Daniel found that Jessica had gone away by the side entrance. He had to wait, therefore, until Wednesday morning for an opportunity to speak to her, and the sight of her pinched little face was welcome to him when he saw it looking wistfully over the coffee-stall. Yet he had made up his mind to forbid her to come again, and to threaten her with the policeman if he ever caught her at the chapel, where for the future he intended to keep a sharper lookout. But before he could speak Jess had slipped under the stall and taken her old seat upon the upturned basket.
“Mr. Daniel,” she said, “has God paid you for my sups of coffee yet?”
“Paid me?” he repeated, “God? No.”
“Well, he will,” she answered, nodding her head sagely; “don’t you be afraid for your money, Mr. Daniel; I’ve asked him a many times, and the minister says he’s sure to do it.”
“Jess,” said Daniel, sternly, “have you been and told the minister about my coffee-stall?”
“No,” she answered, with a beaming smile, “but I’ve told God lots and lots of times since Sunday, and he’s sure to pay in a day or two.”
“Jess,” continued Daniel, more gently, “you’re a sharp little girl, I see; and now, mind, I’m going to trust you. You’re never to say a word about me or my coffee-stall; because the folks at our chapel are very grand, and might think it low and mean of me to keep a coffee-stall. Very likely they’d say I mustn’t be chapel-keeper any longer, and I should lose a deal of money.”