But Chrissie shook her head.
“No,” she replied, “I’m certain I didn’t leave it in the church. It was out here, I’m almost sure,” and her eyes searched all round the porch, but in vain.
The service was not long, and not dull. There was a good deal of singing, which the children enjoyed, and the little address was interesting and impressive. It was almost impossible not to listen.
“Oh,” thought Chrissie at the close, “if only we can find the prayer-book, I do think from now I’ll try to be less careless, and ‘gooder’ altogether;” and in her way Leila, too, felt the influence of the wise and kindly words.
Outside they waited a few minutes till the little crowd of children and mothers and governesses had dispersed, in hopes of seeing some one from whom they could get information or advice. But they saw no one looking at all like a verger, and almost in despair Chrissie caught hold of a belated choir-boy, who was passing out.
“Please,” she said, “I’ve lost my prayer-book. Who is there I can ask about it?”
The boy stopped.
“Best ask the verger,” he replied. “But you can’t see him just now. He’s busy, I know. If you left it inside, it’ll be in the vestry, pr’aps. But if you dropped it outside—well, I’m sure I can’t say,” and he gave a low whistle; but as he saw the distress on the child’s face he took pity, and went on. “It might be took to his house, if a honest person picked it up. I’ve known of such. He’s well known about here, you see—and they might have been passing that way.”
“Where is it?” gasped Chrissie.
“Peter’s Place,” replied the boy, “number twenty-two,” and off he ran.