“Is there any more to that story?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Yes, indeed.”
“Would you read me a little more?” She was very humble now.
“Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me and more also, if ought but death part me and thee.'”
Their eyes met. There was a long pause. Suddenly the sharp, sweet notes of the church bell brought John Douglas to his feet with a start of surprise.
“Have you got to go?” Polly asked regretfully.
“Yes, I must; but I'll read the rest from the church. Open the window, Mandy!” And he passed out of the door and quickly down the stairs.
Chapter VI
WHEN John Douglas's uncle offered to educate his nephew for the ministry, the boy was less enthusiastic than his mother. He did not remonstrate, however, for it had been the custom of generations for at least one son of each Douglas family to preach the gospel of Calvinism, and his father's career as an architect and landscape gardener had not left him much capital.