Now Joe and Charlie were wall-paperers in the city; and it was only a few days thereafter that Nettie announced with great satisfaction that they would come out and paper the old church, for their share in the good work.
Then came Ruth Jennings' brother-in-law who was in business in a more distant city, and having called for Ruth and waited for her on the evening when that perplexing question of window-shades was being discussed, he volunteered a delightful bit of information:
"Didn't they know about the new paper in imitation of stained glass? So good an imitation that when well laid it would take an expert to distinguish the difference."
No, indeed, they had never heard of such a thing; and all other business was suspended while the brother-in-law was plied with questions, the conclusion of the matter being that he said "their firm" dealt quite largely in this new invention, and he could have enough for this little church supplied at cost, if they would like to go into it. And being able to give in round numbers the probable cost, the girls gleefully voted to "go into it," provided they could secure any person who knew how to manage it. This at once developed further resources belonging to the brother-in-law. He knew all about it, and would lay the paper for them with pleasure, if some of the "fellows" would help. He would just as soon spend a day in that way as not.
"Stained-glass windows!" said Ruth Jennings, with a long-drawn sigh of satisfaction. "As if South Plains had ever dreamed of attaining to such heights! Girls, will the old red curtains do for dusters, do you believe, if we wash them tremendously?"
The very next day brought them another surprise. Miss Benedict read part of a letter from "mamma," wherein it appeared that a certain Mr. Stuart, of the firm of Stuart, Greenough & Co., had become interested in the church at South Plains, through Dora's reports of what absorbed her sister's energies, and in grateful remembrance of certain helps which Claire's father had given their church in its struggling infancy, he had selected a walnut desk and two pulpit chairs, which he had taken the liberty to ship to Miss Claire Benedict, with his kind regards and earnest wish that her efforts might be prospered, even as her father's had been before her.
Over this astonishing piece of news some of the girls actually cried. The pulpit desk and chairs had represented a formidable bill of expense looming up before them.
Each had been privately sure that they would be obliged at last to take those which would jar on their esthetic tastes, out of respect to the leanness of the church purse. And here was solid walnut, selected by a man of undoubted taste and extensive knowledge in this direction. I don't think it strange that they cried!
Mary Burton, while she wiped her eyes, made a remark which was startling to some of the girls: