Jeanie was the only one of the ladies who appeared to be at ease; she laughed and chatted gaily, while the others only interjected formal remarks now and then. Allister felt drawn towards little Miss Robertson; the suppressed vitality in her brown eyes aroused his interest and sympathy. With some difficulty he made his way across the crowded room to where she was sitting.
“You and I are among the latest arrivals, I believe,” he said pleasantly.
“So we are, but I have been through my ordeal, so am only a spectator to-day.”
“Might one ask what you mean?”
“Don’t you know that this is a state function, got up to welcome you and Mr Benson?”
“Indeed I did not. Oh, the guilefulness of women!—and Miss Jeanie called it a simple tea-party.”
“Well, you had better begin preparing your speech. I had to make one. Mind and be careful to make a good first impression.”
Just then the ominous sound of Mr Mactavish clearing his throat was heard, and an apprehensive silence fell upon the assemblage. Jeanie looked at Benson with unutterable mischief in her eyes. Then the voice of the boarding-master began in measured, lugubrious tones—
“Leddies and gentlemen,—fellow-warkers i’ the vineyard, we have met to-day to welcome two who have just put hands to the plough which runs in oor furrows o’ grace. One o’ them comes frae the land we left—most o’ us many years ago—to dwell in this clime o’ savagery and spend oor lives in reclaimin’ the heathen frae his barbarism. We know what we have done in the past; we know how hard oor labour was at first; but we must be thankful that strength was given tae enable us tae break the hard, virgin sod, and thus make the wark lighter for those who come after.
“We will humbly trust that oor friends will duly appreciate the enorrmous responsibilities restin’ upon them as missioners, an’ that they will assist in keepin’ this little community what it is—‘a light tae lighten the Gentiles,’ and a continual example tae the heathen o’ the true Christian life.