"Does he live near here?"
"He lives just now with his parents. Of late years he has been abroad."
"He doesn't look like the son of a minister," said Maggie.
"No, I'm afraid—" Aunt Elizabeth suddenly stopped. "His father has been minister of our chapel for twenty years. He is a great and wonderful man."
"Where is the chapel?"
"Very near at hand. You will see it to-morrow. To-morrow is Sunday."
There was a long pause. Maggie knew that now was the time when she should say something friendly and affectionate. She could say nothing. She stared at her aunt, then at a long mirror that faced her bed, then at the lighted sky. She felt warmly grateful, eager to show all the world that she would do her best, that she was ready to give herself to this new life with all her soul and strength—she could say nothing.
They waited.
At last her aunt said:
"Good-night, dear Maggie."