They stood long in front of the Auld Licht kirk, which he had sworn was bigger and lovelier than St. Paul's, but--well, it is a different style of architecture, and had Elspeth not been there with tears in waiting, Tommy would have blubbered. "It's--it's littler than I thought," he said, desperately, "but--the minister, oh, what a wonderful big man he is!"
"Are you sure?" Elspeth squeaked.
"I swear he is."
The church door opened and a gentleman came out, a little man, boyish in the back, with the eager face of those who live too quickly. But it was not at him that Tommy pointed reassuringly; it was at the monster church key, half of which protruded from his tail pocket and waggled as he moved, like the hilt of a sword.
Speaking like an old residenter, Tommy explained that he had brought his sister to see the church. "She's ta'en aback," he said, picking out Scotch words carefully, "because it's littler than the London kirks, but I telled her--I telled her that the preaching is better."
This seemed to please the stranger, for he patted Tommy on the head while inquiring, "How do you know that the preaching is better?"
"Tell him, Elspeth," replied Tommy, modestly.
"There ain't nuthin' as Tommy don't know," Elspeth explained. "He knows what the minister is like, too."
"He's a noble sight," said Tommy.
"He can get anything from God he likes," said Elspeth.