With characteristic reserve, Barry and Neil shrank from greeting a stranger, but with fine and easy courtesy Mr. Howland bared his head, and went up to the minister.
“We heard your bell's invitation, sir,” he said, “and we came to worship with you.”
A grave smile touched the dark face.
“You rightly interpreted its message,” he said. “Let me repeat its welcome.”
“We are Americans, at least my daughter and I are,” said Mr. Howland, presenting Paula, a frank smile upon her beautiful face, “and this is her young friend from London, Miss Vincent, and these young officers are of the Canadian army.”
“Canadians!” exclaimed the minister, meeting them with both hands. “Oh, you are indeed welcome.”
“We are all in the war, sir, I would have you know,” added Mr. Howland.
The minister looked puzzled.
“Let me explain,” said Barry. “Mr. Rowland and his daughter are on leave from their own hospital which they have set up in France. Miss Vincent is from the base hospital in Boulogne.”
Like the sun breaking upon the loch in a dull day, a smile broke over the dark face. He threw the gate wide open.