“You are wrong there, missy. It matters much. And you should be thankful that you were sent here to the school, where the Bible is read, and where you may learn your duty to God and man. That is the best religion.”
“But I have not learned it very well,” I fear.
“Maybe that is your own fault. I have heard you say that you are not very fond of going to the kirk and reading your Bible.”
“That is quite true. And that is the right way, is it? Were you fond of going to the kirk when you were young? We go to the church, you know.”
“I would be very thankful to be able to go to the kirk,” said Eppie evasively:
“And is your religion just like Miss Baines’? Hers must have been right, because it made her happy when she was in great trouble, and it made her not afraid to die. Is yours the same, Mistress Campbell?”
Eppie looked at her, wondering a little at her persistency, and then she said, “Ay is it—the very same. The same in kind, though not in degree. Miss Baines was a good woman, a far better woman than the like of me.”
“Tell me about it,” said Frederica.
Mistress Campbell looked sadly at a loss.
“How did they teach you to be religious when you were young?”