"She did, too. It was our Golden Text a few weeks ago. Today is Review Sunday, and when the superintendent calls on our class you are to read what is on that piece of paper."
"But I can't read it," Peace protested.
"Why not? It's perfectly plain writing."
"Well, what does it mean, Agnes? I never saw such words before. How do you pronounce them?"
Agnes rattled off the text without a glance at the paper, and Peace lapsed into indignant silence. As if anyone would suppose that she could believe such an outrageous thing as that!
Agnes saw the look of unbelief in the brown eyes, and said haughtily, "If you think I'm lying, ask someone else."
"I'm going to," was the frank retort. "Where is Miss Gordon? Ain't she going to be here today?"
"Yes, but she will be late. She had to go back home for something she forgot, and she thought maybe our class might be called on 'fore she got here again. Ours is the third lesson."
Peace glanced about her. Already the orchestra had begun to play, and she would attract too much attention if she left her seat, but she must ask someone else what those queer words meant. O, there was Faith coming down the aisle. She probably would be cross about it, but she would know. Peace leaned over the arm of the pew and seized her sister's dress as she passed. Faith raised her eyebrows questioningly, but halted long enough to say, "Well?"
"How do you p'onounce these words?" asked the smaller girl, holding out the wrinkled slip; and Faith glibly read under her breath, "'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin. Thou art weighed in the balances and art found wanting.'"