"Oh yes, indeed," she answered; "and I know something of your foothill folks. I've been a book agent. Oh, indeed? You know that. Well, I did first-rate, but that was the book, which sold itself--a beautiful book. Maybe you know it--The Milk of Human Kindness? When we're better acquainted, I'd like to read you," she looked hard at Ajax, "some o' my favourite passages."
"Thanks," said Ajax stiffly.
Next day was Sunday. At breakfast the schoolmarm asked Ajax if there was likely to be a prayer-meeting.
"A prayer-meeting, Miss Buchanan?"
"It's the Sabbath, you know."
"Yes--er--so it is. Well, you see," he smiled feebly, "the cathedral isn't built yet."
"Why, what's the matter with the schoolhouse? I presume you're all church-members?"
Her grey eyes examined each of us in turn, and each made confession. One of the teamsters was a Baptist; another a Latter-Day Adventist; the Spaffords were Presbyterians; we, of course, belonged to the Church of England.
"We ought to have a prayer-meeting," said the little schoolmarm.
"Yes; we did oughter," assented Mrs. Spafford.