“But,” protested. Barry, “I want to hear some one else preach. One gets very tired of one's own preaching, and besides I'm a very poor preacher.”
“I'll take that risk, but I will not press you,” said the minister courteously.
“Do, Barry,” said Paula in a low voice, but he shook his head.
“I see you have some soldier friends at the front,” said Mr. Rowland, pointing to a photograph on the mantel of a young officer in Highland dress.
“Our son, sir,” said the minister quietly.
“Our only son,” added his wife quietly. “He was in the Black Watch.” Her voice, with its peculiar bell-like quality, was full of pride and tenderness.
“Oh,” said Phyllis, turning to her with quick tears in her eyes and holding out her hand.
“Ah,” said the lady, “you too? Your brother?”
“My two brothers.”
“My dear child! My dear child!” said the minister's wife, kissing her. “Your mother was greatly privileged,” she added gently.